New Ways To Fall Apart
by allonsysilvertongue
Summary: Post-Mockingjay. "Effie was his… he didn't quite know. Lover? Partner? Girlfriend seems too juvenile. They simply were two beings who completed each other, so different and yet, so like-minded" How would Haymitch deal with himself when Effie walks out on him?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Boo.**

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Chapter 1

The vase hit the wall behind Haymitch, who ducked just in the nick of time and crashed into a thousand pieces.

When he looked up, he was staring straight at the silver blade of a butter knife which Effie was waving around, pointed threateningly in his direction. The panic was evident in his dark grey eyes.

"No, you put that down, Effie. That's serious; you can hurt someone with that!"

"You promised!" she screeched, her eyes wild. He could see the tears swimming in her eyes; he reached out for her, to get the knife away from her.

"Eff, please. Please, sweetheart. Give me that knife, come on, hand it over," he pleaded gently, trying to placate her growing anger. "We'll talk about this, whatever it is you're mad about, like adults, okay?"

"You don't even know why I'm angry!" she exclaimed. "We'll talk about it like adults, when _you_ learn to behave like one, you filthy sloth!" And with that, she threw the knife at him.

He raised his arm instinctively to protect his face and the knife grazed his forearm before falling to the floor, clanking loudly. He hissed in pain and twisted his arm to get a better look. There was an angry red welt across his forearm; the cut wasn't deep enough to draw blood.

"Okay, that's it! You're insane" he screamed and advanced towards her. His bloodshot eyes were livid with fury. He grabbed her upper arms and dragged her out to the living room. He threw her roughly on the sofa and sat on top of her, trapping her, his legs on either side of her petite body.

She was screaming for all she was worth at him, calling him such colourful names that it would make a sailor blush, so unlike the prim and proper Effie Trinket that everyone knew. Her hands were curled in a fist as it beat angrily against Haymitch's chest. Her legs were flailing uselessly on the sofa, trying to free herself.

His hand slapped hers away and when she didn't stop, he grabbed both her wrists and pinned it to her chest in a tight grip.

"Stop hitting me, you mad woman. What's gotten into you?" he demanded as he shook her roughly, angrily.

He saw her going limp, the fight having clearly left her. "You're drinking again," she whispered softly.

His eyes locked onto hers and he saw the hurt reflecting in them. A lone tear trickled down her cheeks and he hung his head in shame.

Slowly, he got off her. Sitting at the end of the sofa, furthest from Effie who was slowly sitting up, he looked on the floor with his elbow on his knees.

"Where'd you find them? My bottles," he asked, defeated.

"It's not important, is it? What's important is that I've found them and, I want to know why," Effie retorted, gazing out into the distance. The sun was slowly setting; the sky tinted orange, creating a warm soft glow in Haymitch's house at Victors Village.

He felt none of the warmth. His insides felt cold, as an unpleasant feeling began to creep and clench at his heart. _What to answer her?_

He could feel her growing restless as the silent stretched. _Any second now, _he mentally counted down to the moment where she will lose her fiery temper.

"I'm talking to you, Haymitch! You don't even have the manners to look at me while I'm talking to you."

"Shut up, Eff. Shut up with your fucking manners." He could feel her staring at him, her eyes boring holes into his head. "Thought the Capitol would have tortured the manners out of you. Should have left you there a little longer," he sneered.

Just as those words left his mouth, he wished he could take it back.

His cheek was ringing in pain as Effie placed a well-deserved slap on his cheeks. "I don't even know why I bothered." She was on her feet standing in front of him.

When he finally looked up, he saw her back retreating, hurriedly going up the stairs, presumably to their room. He let her, he couldn't face her. Not then, not yet.

He knew he had stepped out of line. They had never mentioned her imprisonment or her torture. He has never asked her what was done to her and she never told him. The war was over, what was the point of asking about her imprisonment. He just wanted… he wanted to live in peace. But he could guessed what she went through because sometimes, long after she had gone to sleep, his fingers will softly trail the scars criss-crossing on her bare back.

He had never been in a serious relationship before but with Effie, he was willing to try. Thinking back, they spent more time arguing compared to other people whom he knew were in a relationship. _Well, not many then, there's only Katniss and Peeta, then there were his parents,_ he mused.

Effie Trinket was an enigma to him. The makeup, the Capitol clothing was a façade. Beneath it was a woman he was certain he loved and every time he was convinced that he finally knew all there was to know about her, she'd do something that would catch him off guard. Like throwing that knife; who would have thought she'd aim for his head, and a perfect shot too, if his fast Victor reflexes hadn't kick in.

Every time they argued, and every time she got mad, he would walk up to her and he'd talk fast. He's good at it, talking himself out of trouble. She'd forgive him and they'd make up. But this time; that jibe he made about her time in prison and being at the tender mercies of President Snow and his Peacekeepers, he wasn't sure if she would find it within herself to forgive him and his overly glib tongue.

She did things that made him mad, too. Like her obsession with schedules and manners. The woman clearly never lived in the moment. He hated her schedule even if it got them, the entire District 12 team where they needed to be and on time. He hated her telling him where to be, when to do things and she even tried to replace his entire wardrobe once, that one year during the 70th Hunger Games. It drove him mad. Granted, he looked presentable and as Effie put it, "dashing", but it wasn't him. It made him feel like one of those ridiculous Capitol men that he so despised.

He'd refuse to talk to her, give her the silent treatment and yet, she'd crawl into his bed at night, wrapped his arm around him, with his back to her. She'd kiss his bare shoulder, up to his ear lobe, whisper those damn words "I'm sorry, Haymitch," and he'd forgive her. He'd remain still and pretend he was asleep, but when they woke up the next morning, he would pretend that nothing happened. New day, forget yesterday.

He chuckled to himself thinking about how dysfunctional their relationship was. Two broken people, alone in this world, driven together by death and pain. He often wondered if he would have fallen in love with Effie if it had not been for the Games. If she was just another Capitol girl he met at the bar during the Games, would he still have thought her pretty? _No, no,_ he shook his head, _Effie is more than just a pretty face, she is so much more._

Effie was his… he didn't quite know. Lover? Partner? Girlfriend seems too juvenile. They simply were two beings who completed each other, so different and yet, so like-minded. There were no labels, no foolish terms simple enough to define their relationship, because that was just it: Their relationship was far from simple.

He sighed and made his way up the stairs, to look for Effie and try to pull himself out of the hole he dug himself. When he opened his bedroom door, he stopped in his tracks.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

She snapped her suit case close and dragged it with her. "Leaving," she snapped.

"Leaving where?"

"I don't know, Haymitch. Anywhere you're not," she glared at him as she said it. She made to walk past him and he stood in front of her, blocking her way.

"You can't leave. You have nowhere to go. You only have me," he said it, almost triumphantly.

"No, that's where you're wrong. I have Peeta, I have Katniss. And I also have Plutarch Heavensbee who owes me a favour and, I think now is a good time as any to collect said debt," she shot back.

He could feel the anger rising in him and his hand curled into a fist, while his other gripped her wrist, trying to make her drop the suitcase. "You're hurting me," she said angrily.

"Oh, yeah? You leaving doesn't hurt me?"

"Let me go, Haymitch! You brought it upon yourself. The drinking and the lying," she sniffed, "how long do you think you could go on before I found out? We made a promise, remember?" her eyes softened as her hand fluttered up and gently cupped his cheeks.

"You promised you'd stop, that we'll help each other. Every time you failed, and went back to your liquor, you promise me the same thing again and again. I feel like a mistress to your bottle, Haymitch."

He knew she was right. He promised her so many times that he'd stop but he couldn't. It was not because he won't but managing without his alcohol would be too difficult. For so many years, when things inevitably went wrong and shit hit the fan, when he tried to forget, he'd have his bottle to rely on, his crutch.

He was a boy from the Seam, he was a Victor, and, then he was a Mentor, a drunken mentor but a mentor nonetheless. Take his bottles away from him, who was he? He never knew, he was never given the chance to find out, to grow up properly.

Whenever he relapsed and woke up drunk, it wasn't the hang over that was painful, it was seeing the hurt in Effie's eyes. He promised himself, he promised her that he'd quit. He was sincere, too. But, it was easier said than done. Downing the next bottle of liquor was easier than subjecting his body to the craving and torture it had to endure, it was physically less painful.

He grew angry; he ripped the hand stroking his cheeks away. "Maybe I drink for a reason, Effie! The nightmares never leave me, has it occurred to you that –"

"I have nightmares, too! Don't pretend like you're the only one with the tortured soul!"

He let go of her arms and fell silent, breathing heavily. _Right, again,_ he cringed inwardly. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her desperately wiping away the tears.

"Go, then. Leave. Maybe, we are just too… We weren't-," he cleared his throat, "Just go."

"Haymitch…"

"Go! That's what you want, isn't it? Get out," he ordered her.

She looked at him one last time before she moved out of the room. Haymitch heard her suitcase thumping on the staircase on her way down and the door closing softly, as she walks out on him.

He sank to his knees as the realization finally hit him. Effie's gone; the house is quiet except for the sound of Haymitch's strangled cries.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all for your lovely reviews, it made my day. Also, thanks for putting it on favourites & alerts. So here's chapter 2!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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Chapter 2

The sunlight filtered through his window panes, lighting up the dark and gloomy bedroom. On the bed, tangled in the sheets, Haymitch was with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand dangling on the side of his bed, drunk as a lord.

Peeta pushed the door open and stepped into the room, shaking his head at the sight in front of him. He maneuvered between Haymitch's dirty clothes strewn all over the floor and his empty liquor bottles.

"Hey, wake up. Wake up, Haymitch," Peeta said, as he shook Haymitch's shoulder gently.

Haymitch stirred and cracked open one eye, "What?"

"It's noon."

"Yeah?" he asked, as he slowly untangled his limbs from the sheets, rubbing his tired eyes.

Ever since Effie left, his life had descended into a whirlwind of chaos. He drank even more than he did before and he hardly got out of his house unless it was to get more alcohol. He bought geese and reared them in his backyard to distract himself. It didn't help much because he soon discovered that these geese could take care of themselves quite well. _Like Effie, _he smirked to himself.

XxX

Effie had been living with him for less than two years since the Rebellion ended and in that short space of time, he had grown to depend on her presence. The house was too quiet without her constant chattering, and too messy without her obsessive neat for organization and cleanliness. He realized, with a start, that he actually missed that stick in the mud, the one person he never thought he'd develop feelings for.

He cursed a few times when he tripped over his own mess. Effie would have laughed at him and told him he deserved every bruise he got if he tripped over something he had flung on the floor.

Sometimes, he would walk into the kitchen expecting Effie to be there with a ladle in her hand, an apron covering her dress while she read from an old recipe book that once belonged to his mother. She would bite her lips, her eyebrows burrowing in concentration as she tried to make sense of the recipe. She was attempting to distract herself by picking up a new hobby after the Rebellion. Her cooking would usually turn out to be total, complete disasters and Haymitch took the utmost sadistic pleasure in telling her as much.

She would throw her head back and laugh; warm, throaty expressions of humour would fill the air, as his face morphed into an expression of disgust.

"Tell me, sweetheart, do you hate me that much that you insist on poisoning me almost every single damned time?" he asked as he gulped down a mouthful of coffee to offset the offending taste of her cooking.

"Your words against mine, dear. Nobody will believe me capable of such things," she replied sweetly as she leaned forward and kissed his lips.

She would be back in the kitchen soon enough attempting another recipe. She never gave up, never, except maybe, recently, on him. Then again, he realized, he might be a lost cause.

He would blink in surprise when he realized she wasn't there, and his mood turned foul for the rest of the day, unleashing a torrent of violent curses at anything or anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. Katniss and Peeta learned long ago to leave him alone when he was in one of his moods, having been privy to him lashing out and upending furniture.

Haymitch Abernathy missed her, more than he would care to admit.

Walking out onto his porch, he sat on the bench and gazed out into the distance. His eyes fell on the swing that Peeta had made for her on that giant old tree, swinging gently in the wind. He frowned, remembering how she had always enjoyed sitting on it, swinging softly as she rested her head on the thick woolen rope.

_Beautiful,_ he often thought as he watched the wind gently blowing against her blonde curls. She would turn to him when she noticed him leaning against the doorway observing her and offered a small smile. He remembered how she'll walk up to him and wrap her arms around his neck, standing on tip toes to plant a soft kiss of his lips.

"I love you, Haymitch," she would tell him softly.

He shut his eyes at that memory, willing it to go away. He thought about her often, and he spent quite a number of times pacing in front of his phone mentally debating with himself if he should call her. Once, he had even summed up enough courage to make the call before he realized he didn't know her number. _I don't even know where she lives, now_, snarling, before slamming the phone down in frustration.

XxX

It was nearly half a year since she left. He found out from Peeta and Katniss, whom Effie apparently kept in touch with, that she was working under President Paylor, as a personal secretary under recommendation of Plutarch Heavensbee.

"She's doing well. Moved into a new apartment, she told me. Got a cat she named Ms Nugget," Peeta told him as they sat on his porch.

He spat out the whiskey he was drinking and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand upon hearing the name Effie gave her new pet cat. "Ms… Ms Nugget, you said?" he chuckled heartily to himself, "Stupid name, stupid name for a cat," he commented.

"She ever asked about me?" he glanced up at Peeta, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"No. No, never," Peeta shook his head at him, "Can I ask you something?"

Peeta took his silence as consent for him to continue, "What happened? Between you two? I mean, the both of you have always managed to … you know, settle your differences. Why did she leave, so suddenly?"

He ignored Peeta.

"Just – It's the alcohol, isn't it?" he asked softly. Haymitch gave a curt nod.

"She needed to you, the way you needed the alcohol. You were her strength, her light. I don't know, maybe even her hope that she could lead a normal life, in a way, after all that's happened to her."

That night, with the full moon shining brightly in the skies above, Peeta told him whatever he knew about Effie's time being imprisoned in the Capitol.

"I was in the cell next to her. Even with the tracker jacker's venom in me, I could hear her screaming, screaming so loud. She whispered your name at night, I don't even think she realized that herself. The guards would laugh at her, taunting her about how nobody would come to save her."

Haymitch clenched his fist as the visual image of Effie's torture invaded his mind.

"You know… I've always wondered if there was more going on between the both of you. I mean, you both have been working together for years."

Haymitch listened as Peeta told him how he would sit with his back pressed against the wall, next to the cold steel bars whispering to Effie who did the same in her cell next door, trying to keep each other sane.

"I think… I've always believed that the thought of being able to see you again kept her alive. The same way the thought of seeing Katniss again kept me going… before they messed up my memory of her, of course." He told him.

"But hey, don't listen to me. I am a hopeless romantic, you're just a tough guy who swears he was better off on his own, right?" he teased Haymitch.

They fell silent; listening to the sounds of leaves rustling in the wind, the occasional voice of someone talking as they walked passed Victors Village.

"You're miserable, Haymitch. Everyone can tell. Effie's miserable, too. She just masks it well, I know it, I know her." Peeta spoke once again.

It was then that Haymitch did something unexpected, he turned to Peeta, and softly uttered two words that Peeta had not been expecting, "Help me."

"For real this time, Haymitch," Peeta said, looking at him earnestly.

"Yeah," he nodded, determination etched on his face. "I… I want her back. I want Effie back, but I can't – Not when I'm like this, look at me, I'm a mess," he gestured at himself, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

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	3. Chapter 3

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**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

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Chapter 3

He had done this before; when the Third Quarter Quell came around and Peeta had gotten rid of his alcohol and his time as a refugee in District 13 during the Rebellion. He was determined to see it through this time. He refused to enslave his body to the abuse of alcohol anymore. It was time he changed; for himself, for Effie.

His efforts and declarations of sobriety wasn't mere bluster however. He got Peeta and Katniss to purge his house of all liquor-based drinks; all the whiskey, vodka, scotch and wine bottles he owned. Not a single drink with any alcohol content could be found in his house anymore. In a fit of sadism, he reckoned, they stocked up his cupboard and refrigerator with fruit juice, tins of coffee and bags of tea. _Fruit juice… damn kids,_ he thought.

He gritted his teeth as another violent tremor rocked his body. He buried his head under the covers and closed his eyes, trying to block out the uncomfortable physical symptoms he was currently experiencing. His head felt like it was splitting under a woodcutter's axe; he swore that the worst hangover he experienced wasn't even that bad.

The tremors, the shakes and the headaches were nothing compared to the mild hallucinations he had at night. He had almost developed a certain fear of the dark because every time he lay in bed, his olfactory senses would pick up her scent. He smelled her citrus perfume; her vanilla scented soap invading his nostrils. The smell grew so intense that during one of those sleepless nights, he was convinced she was lying next to him, with her arms wrapped around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, the way they normally fell sleep.

Some nights, he would see her, too. She would stand silently, in the corner of his room, looking sadly at him, disappointment etched on her face. He would wake up and he was convinced he was seeing her ghost. But it kept him going, the image of her disappointed face kept swimming in his mind's eye and it was enough of a motivation for him to see it through.

During day, he could feel himself growing more irritable with his surroundings. He snapped at Peeta on a few occasions and had to trek to his house a few hours later to apologize. The kid would smile at him, pat him on the back and beckon Katniss to offer him some food.

"How is it going?" Katniss asked him one day, as she placed a bowl of stew and freshly baked bread in front of him.

"Okay. The tremors are alright, now," he said as he dipped the bread in the stew.

"You sleep alright?" Peeta asked, standing behind Katniss, slipping his hand around her waist. Haymitch averted his gaze, uncomfortable with their displays of affection. It reminded him too much of what he was missing.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"You appetite seems to have grown, too," Katniss laughed, "Soon you'll be finishing all the bread in this house!"

"Congratulations old man, it's been four months since your last bottle of whiskey! It's progress, I must say," Peeta gushed enthusiastically, thumping him on his shoulder.

Haymitch grinned at Peeta. Here was the boy whose life he didn't place any importance on, during the 74th Hunger Games because he didn't have a choice, who demanded that he saved Katniss' life during the Third Quarter Quell and yet, here he was trying to help Haymitch on his road to recovery.

Just then the phone rang and Peeta went to answer it.

"Effie!" he exclaimed happily, "How are you?" He glanced at Haymitch and gestured to the phone, silently asking if he would like to speak to her.

He shook his head quietly, nodded his thanks to Katniss and left the house. Sitting on the bench, at his porch, he stared blankly into the horizon.

He wanted so much to hear her voice again. But he won't, he promised himself, that until he was completely sober and certain that his body had stopped craving for alcohol, he would not contact Effie.

Over the months, he came to realize that the problem and solution lay in his mind, his very thought processes. The more he was convinced that he needed the alcohol to go on living, the more he would crave for it. At that moment, he was convinced that a single sip of alcohol would cause a relapse, throwing him back to his old ways of drunken debauchery.

He recalled sitting in the kitchen of Peeta's and Katniss's house with the heel of his palms digging into his forehead and his eyes screwed shut as they discussed heatedly the best way for him to detoxify himself. Peeta being the gentle hearted boy that he was suggested that he stop alcohol consumption gradually while Katniss suggested cold turkey.

The decision to go cold turkey wasn't easy, but it appeared to be the only way out for him. Haymitch wasn't sure if gradually laying off the alcohol will work. For all he knew, he could be drinking the same amount every day without a form of control in the guise of the kids, a monitor of his daily alcohol consumption.

He couldn't help but wonder, _Would she be proud of me if she could see me now?_

XxX

The hallucinations and the tremors began to decrease in intensity and frequency as the months passed. He still got agitated and irritated at the slightest provocation but he was starting to believe that not all of it was due to the withdrawal symptoms; it could just be his sour disposition.

The craving for alcohol became more bearable, too. He no longer had to lock himself in his room to prevent himself from going down to the Hob to buy the offending liquid. He was also proud of how he was able to stand being in the same room with Peeta while he drank a glass of wine. Not that the kid was doing it on purpose, Haymitch just happened to stride into his house while Peeta was pouring himself some wine.

It was also odd to be waking up fully sober and without a head-splitting hangover. He could remember every nightmare he had from the night before and his eyes roamed his room every morning just to make certain that he wasn't back in the arena fighting for his life. That he wasn't holding on to Maysilee's hand as she bled to death and that, Effie wasn't pleading for him to help her as the Peacekeepers tortured her.

_Effie, _he thought, _is safe, wherever she is, she is safe. Safe,_ he told himself over and over again every morning, like a mantra.

XxX

He was just beginning to stir from his sleep when he heard pounding on his front door. "Haymitch! Haymitch! Open the door!"

"Coming!" he shouted while mentally plotting ways to inflict a generous amount of pain on whoever was incessantly knocking on his door at…. 2 in the afternoon, he noted, glancing at the clock.

"What?" he snarled as he yanked the door open.

Peeta walked in uninvited, "Since when did you lock your doors?"

"Since you two kids thought it was okay to walk into my house at all hours."

"To check on you," Peeta replied with a small smile.

"Yeah, well…I'm alright, now." He said rubbing his forehead uncomfortably.

Haymitch was still struggling to accept Peeta's act of kindness, or any act of kindness from anyone for that matter. He had led a solitary life ever since he won his Games, seen too many deaths and cruelty to believe kindness still existed. Peeta, Katniss and Effie might just prove him wrong.

"Good, good. I'm glad. I'm really proud of you," he told Haymitch, clapping his shoulder. "Effie would be proud, too."

Haymitch shrugged, "Wouldn't know. Don't know what goes on in that woman's head half the time."

He came around and sat across Peeta on the sofa. Peeta handed him a creamy envelope, smooth to the touch and giving off a fragrance Haymitch couldn't identify. That envelope could only be from the Capitol.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow at Peeta.

"I've taken the liberty of checking your mail for you, since you can't be bothered to check them, as usual." Peeta explained.

Haymitch tore the envelope open and slid the card out from it. His name was printed on it with gold lettering, an invitation to the Capitol to commemorate the 3rd year of freedom since the Rebellion ended. _Anniversary Ball,_ Haymitch read silently from the card.

Throwing the card on the table in disgust, Haymitch asked, "After three years why this… this event all of a sudden?"

"From what I know, the first two years were focused on the rebuilding of the individual districts, dealing with the aftermath of the war, you know. Basically, the new government was too busy to be throwing such parties."

"Yeah? Well, I am not going," he stated, flicking through the channels broadcasting on his old, rusty television set.

"Oh, come on, Haymitch," Peeta cajoled him

"You're telling me that Katniss is going?" Haymitch gave him an incredulous look.

Peeta laughed, "Yes, yes, after much of my charming persuasion. Took quite a while. Three days to be exact."

"You got the invitation a few days back and, you only gave it to me today?"

"Had to persuade Katniss first, now, didn't I?"

"I'll think about it," Haymitch replied gruffly.

"Good enough," Peeta replied as he bade Haymitch good bye.

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**There will be Effie in the next chapter! :)**

**Leave some reviews and let me know what you think. Have a good Sunday!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you everyone for your reviews :) Really appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine, not Suzanne Collins**

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Chapter 4

Haymitch stepped off the train into the orange glare of the setting sun. He glanced around and immediately noted the change in the Capitol. It was different from his time as a mentor.

It was as busy as ever with people rushing around to get to their destinations. But these people were not dressed in the usual arrogant Capitol fashion. As expected, their dressing and clothing were much more colourful than what one would normally find in the Districts. However, he saw fewer people with wigs and neon coloured hair; the Capitol residents were no longer as outlandish as they used to be.

"Oh wow, they almost look like us. Normal," Katniss observed, impressed.

"Yeah," Peeta nodded his agreement, looking at a man donned in a navy blue suit and white bow tie. "Come on, we'll be late the longer we stay here," Peeta said, dragging a very reluctant Katniss along with him.

President Paylor had turned the late President Snow's mansion into what the residents of the Capitol termed "The Cityhall". The representatives from the individual districts met there for official meetings and discussions. It was also a place where new laws for the governance of separate districts as well as Panem as a whole were drafted, and the plans for the rebuilding of each district were constructed. President Paylor's office was also in the Cityhall, although she resides elsewhere.

The Cityhall was also the venue where the Anniversary Ball was being held. Walking towards the double doors, Haymitch could hear the hubbub of the crowd, melodious music resonating through the corridors and saw the guests coming and going.

Haymitch's step faltered as a sudden thought entered his mind. _Effie will be here, _he realized in mounting horror. He wasn't ready to face her, he didn't know if he was ready to face her.

_What would __I__ do if Effie refused to look at __me__ and walk away from __me__? And should Effie hate __me__, what would __I__ do?_ These thoughts ran rampant in his mind as he made the slow walk to the ballroom.

"You okay?" Katniss turned around to ask when she realized he had fallen behind.

"Wha- Yes. You know how much I detest these kind of events," he said gesturing to the source of the music.

Katniss raised an eyebrow at him, finding his answer unconvincing, but she was too polite to point it out. When the three of them stepped in to the hall, the party had already started.

_Good, we missed the speeches,_ Haymitch thought gleefully to himself, his despondent mood swings taking a turn for the better. Katniss and Haymitch had agreed the day before they were scheduled to leave District 12 that they would arrive spectacularly late; sparing themselves the arduous and torturously long speeches, as well as other self-congratulatory addresses, so often mandatory in official events.

Soon after they entered the hall, Katniss and Peeta had left him to his own devices as they made their way around the room to exchange pleasantries and greetings. Haymitch wandered off to the refreshment table, piling his plate high with food.

Walking off to find himself an empty table, he was intercepted by a few reporters who wanted to know how the infamously reclusive former mentor and rebel had been living his life. They soon lost interest when he only gave curt, non-committal replies.

He had greeted and exchanged small talk, something that he was incapable of, with Gale and Mrs. Everdeen, who was also invited. Hoping that nobody would notice him, he excused himself and sat alone at a table in a corner, attacking his food.

He was on his second plate of mango pudding when Annie marched over to say hello and introduced her little boy to him. Finnick, he was called, named after his father. Little Finnick's eyes were the exact same shade of green as his father, causing Haymitch to be taken by surprise when the boy looked at him, gurgling something unintelligible.

Haymitch lost his appetite soon after, the veritable mountain of food on his plate uneaten. Thoughts of how Finnick should have been there with his family, carrying his little boy and fending off the ladies throwing themselves at his feet occupied Haymitch's mind.

He went off to the balcony with a glass of punch in his hand, to clear his head and, mostly, to escape the crowd. He never did much like crowds. It was suffocating. Besides, there was no Effie Trinket by his side, whispering to him out of the corner of her mouth to mind his manners and put a smile on his face as people approached him.

Wandering out to the balcony, he heard the voices of a man and a woman talking and as he approached them, he heard a woman laughing. He knew that laugh; one that he would recognised it anywhere. It invaded his dream every night.

He walked in on Plutarch Heavensbee and Effie Trinket, her hand resting lightly on his upper arms as he regaled her with stories that got her laughing in stitches. They turned to him when he cleared his throat and Effie's laughter died on her lips.

"Uhhh, hello," he said, raising his right hand in greeting, masking his surprise at the sight of the two of them. "Didn't know there was anyone out here. Thought everyone would be inside enjoying the festivities."

"Haymitch!" Plutarch exclaimed, taking his hands and shaking it enthusiastically. "Didn't see you, my friend! When did you arrive?"

"'Bout an hour and a half ago, I think. You came from District 3, yeah?"

"Yes, yes. You came late, I presume?" he asked.

"Just be glad we came at all, Heavensbee," Haymitch replied, smiling.

"Ah, well, I have to go back inside. See you around and make sure you find me before you go back to Twelve!" he said waggling his index finger at Haymitch.

Haymitch laughed and gave him a two finger salute. He was acutely aware that he is now alone with Effie Trinket. He swallowed uncomfortably. Haymitch stood there awkwardly, taking a deep breath before turning to face her.

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**A/N: There'll be more Effie next chapter. & how will they react to each other? Hmmm. & i'll explain Plutarch next chapter.**

**Leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The usual disclaimer applies.**

**Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites!**

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Chapter 5

"Hello, Haymitch," she greeted him in that soft voice she only ever used when she spoke to him, preferring instead to project her chipper Capitol accent to everyone else. If she was surprised to see him, she masked it well.

She smiled radiantly at him and Haymitch's breath caught in his throat. _Beautiful,_ he thought.

"I…Hey. Hello, Effie," he nodded at her, his fingers scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He moved to stand next to her.

He cleared his throat, "You look beautiful, blue suits you very well."

"Thank you."

Effie grew quiet. Haymitch glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. They were each wondering what to say to the other, their last angry exchange fresh in their minds. The raw emotions created by the argument still permeated the air.

"You cleaned up good," she remarked, her voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. She gestured towards his clean shaven face and his freshly pressed suit.

"Wha-Oh, oh, yeah," he smiled, scratching his cheeks. "Old suit, got it washed, cleaned and ironed," he explained, as he smoothed out the lapels of his suit.

"Looks familiar. Didn't I get the suit for you back during the Games?"

"Yeah, one of those Capitol suits," he nodded.

_Good, harmless small talk. That's good. Nobody will be fighting tonight and she hasn't run off in the opposite direction either_, he thought to himself, not that he was foolish enough to start another fight with Effie here.

Just then, an Avox walked in with a tray of champagne, offering it to them. Under President Paylor, criminals were no longer punished by having their tongue cut off and forced into slavery. Instead, under one of the new laws that was signed in after unanimous assent, the Avoxes were emancipated and given their right to freedom. Most of them chose to continue working for the new government, having had nowhere to go any more. The only difference is that they were now paid and were given a place to live. The rights given to them were equivalent to those given to the other citizens in Panem.

Effie picked up a flute of champagne and thanked the Avox who promptly turned to Haymitch.

"No, thanks, I'm good," raising his glass of fruit punch. The Avox nodded and walked away.

"Are you being serious? Punch?" Effie asked him, somewhat surprised.

"Yeah, never heard of it, sweetheart?" he teased her.

"Yes, of course, I have. I mean, I've never heard of you turning down alcohol, that's all," she sipped her champagne as she watched Haymitch.

"I just did," he shrugged.

"Where is Haymitch Abernathy and what have you done to him?" she asked, her eyes furrowing in confusion.

He couldn't help it; the look on her face was priceless, he burst out laughing. He had to grip the marble banister to steady himself. He hadn't laughed like that since before she left.

Haymitch saw the offended look on her face and tried to stop laughing, stuffing his fist in his mouth.

"I'm not laughing at you. I just… You look so surprised, so shocked," he said breathlessly.

"Well, I am," Effie replied testily, sipping her champagne.

"Good," he said simply.

"What happened? Are you ill? Is that… Is that why you refused the champagne?" she moved closer to him, worry etched on her face.

"No. No, I'm not, and don't worry about it," he shook his head, staring straight ahead.

After a while, Haymitch spoke, "You planned this event?"

"I did. How'd you-"

"Invitation card, gold letterings. Told me something about gold lettering on a wedding card once. Said you wanted it or something," he interjected, explaining.

"Oh. You remembered," she said, surprised that he remembered such insignificant details.

"Yeah,"

"Katniss was supposed to give a speech," she told him after they lapsed into another lengthy silence.

"She was? I didn't know," he grinned sheepishly.

"Yes, but I bet my shoes that it was your idea to arrive late and miss the speeches."

"Know me too well, huh?" he said, mostly to himself.

"I wasn't expecting you today," Effie told him, changing the subject.

Haymitch turned his head to look at her. "Oh?"

"Well, I thought... I thought you weren't going to turn up," she explained after awhile.

When he remained quiet, Effie continued – more out of a need to fill the oppressive silence, "You hate functions. Someone was usually there to make sure you attend -"

"By someone you mean you?" he cut in, not allowing her to finish her sentence. "Don't flatter yourself too much, eh, sweetheart? I don't need you around all the time, you know, I am capable of doing things when I set my mind to it," he told her, referring to more than just attending an Anniversary Ball.

_That's a lie. I do need her, _he thought_. _He saw her bit her bottom lip and the flicker of hurt in her eyes before it was gone. Haymitch felt himself growing more irritated by the second at how things were turning out. He should have just kept his mouth shut, it would have been for the better. They don't need another argument, especially not here in front of so many guests.

"That's not what I meant, Haymitch," she told him patiently.

"Oh, it isn't?" Haymitch barked out in a sarcastic laughter. "Then, tell me sweetheart, why'd you send me an invitation if you don't expect me to turn up?"

Effie's eyes narrowed at his tone. She cleared her throat and grabbed her purse lying on the banister.

"I should… ummm, I should probably go inside," she said, ignoring his question.

Haymitch nodded. _Messed it up again,_ he thought, shaking his head had not seen each other for nearly a year and when they finally did, he messed it up. His head hit the marble banister with a soft thud, a feeling of disappointment and disgust threatened to consume him.

He listened as the click of her heels faded away and the silence once again enveloped him. His heart ached at the thought of how two people who loved each other could also act like complete strangers, grappling for the appropriate words to say to one another.

Conversation used to flow so easily between them. After the Rebellion, when there were no more pressing issues that required either of their attentions, they would spend the whole day in bed naked wrapped in each other's arm, talking the time away.

XxX

Walking back into the reception hall, he spotted Beetee and went to sit with the man. Gale joined them and Haymitch was content to sit back and listen to their conversation, occasionally nodding and giving his assent at the appropriate moment. His eyes followed Effie; she was with Peeta, Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen talking to President Paylor.

It irked him when he saw Plutarch Heavensbee came to stand by Effie's side, whispering something in her ear. His hand touched her elbow as he guided her to a group of officials Haymitch didn't recognize. He fell hot and bothered all of a sudden and moved to loosen his tie.

"So what do you think, Mitchie?" Beetee asked, calling him by the nickname he gave Haymitch all those years ago, a name Haymitch hated.

"Wha- Didn't catch that, what were you saying?"

Beetee followed his gaze and chuckled.

"Lady problem, eh?"

"What would you know about it, Bee?" he smirked.

"I know that Effie went to District 3 when she left Twelve," he said in an almost sing-song voice, baiting Haymitch.

Haymitch jerked his head towards Beetee, "To find Plutarch?"

"Yes, came to him in the middle of the night. I don't really know what happened but they left for the Capitol the next morning. Reckon Plutarch set up the job for her in President Paylor's office."

"She told me Plutarch owed her a favour. You know anything about it?"

"It was years ago, before he was Head Gamemaker. They were in Games school together –"

Haymitch scoffed. "Games school?"

"Yes, where they trained you for your specific role in the Games before they send you out."

"Yeah, alright, you were saying?"

"They were in Games school together. Plutarch's father was someone high up in the Government. He promised Effie that he'll get her the Escort job in the higher districts but well, she got to Twelve. She got angry initially, but she accepted it after a while. She held it over Plutarch's head, that he owed her a favour."

"She told you all this?" Haymitch asked, confused. He can't remember a time where he had ever saw Effie talking to Beetee.

"No, no of course not. Plutarch told me, said the woman was hysterical the night she came to Three."

Haymitch frowned and sipped his drink.

He heard Gale chimed in, "So what? The Escort is dating the Gamemaker?"

"Former Escort and former Gamemaker," Beetee corrected him. Haymitch sat up straighter, perked by Gale's sudden question. He was curious himself.

"And, no. I don't think so, I think they're just… you know, they go way back," Beetee replied, glancing at Haymitch uncertainly, trying to gauge his reaction.

XxX

When morning came around, Haymitch sat on one of the benches at the train station waiting for Katniss and Peeta who had gone to say their goodbyes. He saw a discarded newspaper on the bench next to him and went to pick it up.

On the front page was a picture of Katniss and Peeta smiling happily at the anniversary ball yesterday. He saw himself at the side scowling at the massive throne of reporters.

"Thought you were going to say goodbye before you leave!" he heard Plutarch's loud booming voice.

He glanced up to see the man walking in his direction with Effie, Katniss and Peeta.

"Goodbye," he said as he made to stand and walk towards the train. He saw Peeta frowned at his aloof behavior.

"Come and visit me at Three, won't you? Come see the world, instead of being cooped up all day in your house drinking yourself to death."

Haymitch scowled in annoyance not bothering to correct Plutarch about his recently non-existent drinking habit.

"Sure, sure," he gave a non-committal answer.

He saw Effie giving Katniss and Peeta a hug, and she smiled as Peeta bend down and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

"Don't just call us, Effie. Come visit us, too. We miss you when you're not around," Peeta told her warmly.

"I miss you, too." Effie said, staring straight at Haymitch who quickly averted his gaze. "I will, I'll visit, of course," she said as she waved them goodbye.

Haymitch wondered if she had meant it for him. He shook his head slightly, refusing to let his mind travel down that path. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to apologise for his terrible behavior but Plutarch was once again, much to his chagrin, hovering beside Effie, frequently checking the time on his wrist watch. _Is she going somewhere with him?_ Haymitch thought furiously.

"Well, goodbye, Eff. It was…" he cleared his throat, "It was nice seeing you," he told her politely, formally. If he had looked at her as he said his goodbye, he would have seen the flicker of emotion as Effie blinked away her tears.

He nodded at Plutarch and boarded the train. His thoughts were with Effie as the train pulled out of the Capitol and made its way back to Twelve.

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	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Okay, word count confirmed that this chapter is slightly longer than normal. & I apologise in advance if I bore you, but it needed to be done and to split it into another chapter would not have worked out well. :/**

**Disclaimer: Looked into the mirror and I am me. Not Suzanne Collins.**

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Chapter 6

A week had passed since the Anniversary Ball at the Capitol and Haymitch had easily fallen back into his daily routine; not entailing much other than sleeping, waking up, feeding his geese and to do as he pleased for the rest of the day, before falling to bed once again. At times, when the fancy struck him, he could be found visiting Peeta at his bakery shop, spending a couple of hours talking.

He would also visit the small local cemetery to pay his respects to his family and his dead girl. He would sit there at the graveyard, leaning against his mother's tombstone, clearing his mind. He had found a strange sort of solace as he sat there soaking in the peaceful silence until it got dark and night set in before making his way back to Victors' Village. He had suddenly found himself with too much time on his hands now that he was sober and had the fullest use of his mental faculties.

That day, he had the sudden urge to venture to the meadow and sit on one of the many large boulders. Time seemed to blend into the background as he sat there for hours, soaking in the warmth the sun had to offer.

He squinted against the orange glare of the setting sun as he licked his fingers clean off the last bit of butter cream frosting from the cupcakes he had discreetly pocketed from Peeta's bakery. _Guilty pleasures._

"You have any more of those cupcakes?" a soft feminine voice asked, a shadow falling over him.

He jumped and turned around. He stared straight into Effie's sky blue eyes glinting with mirth at having successfully crept up on him and caught him off guard.

"Mother of… Are you trying to kill me, woman?" he exclaimed, his fingers already clenched around the hilt of his silver knife.

She gave a small chuckle.

"No. Ahh… I ate them all. You could, uh… get some from Peeta's shop," he replied to her earlier question, trying to calm the pounding of his heart.

_What is she doing here?_ he asked himself.

"Oh, well," she shrugged. He craned his neck and looked past her shoulder, looking for someone.

"Where's Plutarch?" he asked, still searching.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would he be here?"

"I thought… I thought he came here with you. Didn't he? I mean…" he rubbed his forehead, a clear sign that he was uncomfortable. "Well, I thought, that you and him… You know…" he trailed off, unsure if she would appreciate his assumption.

She laughed, the warm throaty chuckle melodiously mingling with the rustling of the leaves. She sat down on the boulder he occupied a few moments ago, clutching her stomach and laughing for all she was worth. He observed her as she bent over, tears gathering at her eyes, laughing her heart out.

"No, Haymitch, no," she shook her head, her blonde curls flying around wildly. She was wearing a simple cream-coloured dress extending to her knees; her hair braided the same way Katniss' hair was during the 74th Games. He wondered if she had visited Katniss and Peeta first since that would explain her hair and how she knew where to find him.

"Plutarch and I… Oh, god, no, no," she waved her hands vehemently to emphasise her point.

"Yeah well, okay. Don't look fitting for each other anyway," he shrugged, feeling terribly embarrassed.

That got her laughing in stitches once again. "Fitting..." she gasped breathlessly. "I'll be sure to tell Plutarch that. He'd appreciate your opinion."

"Stop laughing at me like that," he nudged her slightly so he could sit beside her on the boulder.

"You were under the delusion that Plutarch and I were together?" she asked him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah," he replied curtly.

"Is that why you were so cold and distant when you said goodbye to me at the Capitol?"

"No… I wasn't… Yes."

"Oh, Haymitch, you're a foolish man," she shook her head, resting her hand on top of his.

"Why are you here?" he asked after a while, turning his hand over to clasp hers, interlacing their fingers together. He missed the warm feeling of her hand in his.

"To come and visit."

"Oh…You've visited Peeta and Katniss?"

"I have," she replied as she watched the sun slowly set into the horizon.

Effie used to visit the meadow to calm herself and clear her head after they had one of their many fights. She loved the meadow, claiming that there wasn't much in the way of nature for her to appreciate back in the Capitol.

"How much time do you have before... before you have to go back to the Capitol?" he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. He pulled his hand away, suddenly feeling angry knowing that she would be leaving soon.

She didn't answer him and truthfully, Haymitch wasn't sure if he wanted to hear her answer. He was rather contented just sitting here basking in the warm glow of the sun with Effie by his side.

"You don't usually come to the meadow." she remarked.

"I don't usually get visitors from the Capitol either, sweetheart," He replied. "Come on, we should head back. It'll get dark, soon."

He stood up, dusting his pants off. He offered his hand to her and pulled her up to her feet.

"You brought anything with you, sweetheart? Luggage or a schedule perhaps? What time are you supposed to be on the train back to the Capitol?" he repeated his earlier question.

Once again, she kept quiet, nibbling on her lower lip. He turned to look at her as they walked towards the edge of the meadow.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he laughed to himself thinking of the stupid name she gave to the poor feline she kept. _What was it, again? Ms… Ahh, Ms Nugget._

"You seem different, Haymitch. Happier." she observed, looking at him.

"What?" he swivelled his head in her direction, clearly taken aback by Effie's unexpected remark. _Happy and me in the same sentence, that's a first, _he thought to himself.

"Do I make you miserable? You said you can't stand all those talks about manners and etiquette, you told me that countless times over the years. Maybe... Maybe being around me made you miserable?" she questioned him hesitantly.

"I'm not sure where you're going with this. And, I don't really... I don't really want to get into more trouble with you than I already am."

"Was I controlling you?" she blurted out.

Haymitch grew quiet, his mind racing a million miles a minute. He kicked the pebbles underneath his feet.

"No," he frowned as he answered her after awhile. "Nah, don't go thinking like that, Eff. You weren't, you were just... You were just trying to make me better and I was... too drunk to realise."

He sighed.

"After you left, I... You know, I didn't quite know what to do with myself," he chuckled darkly. "We've been talking to each other for quite a while back in the meadow and now… do you noticed anything different about me?" he questioned her as he moved to stand in front of her.

He held his breath, a part of him wanted Effie to realize that he was not the same man she walked out on; that he had in some way changed, that perhaps he's a better man than he was before.

She shut her eyes, and said, "You don't... You don't reek of alcohol, Haymitch." Her eyes flew upon as the realisation set in and she finally saw what was in front of her. "You don't slur your words, you don't trip over your feet, and you're walking and talking like a normal person-"

"- like a sober person," she corrected herself.

"Yes." he let out a soft breath. "Yes," his hand moved in a downward swipe across his face, relieved.

"Oh. Oh, Haymitch," she took his face in both her of her hands, her thumb gently caressing the day-old stubble. Haymitch's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned his cheeks on her palm. "What... How?"

He opened his eyes to look at her, to see if she was mocking him. She was looking at him curiously, perked by the sudden change in him.

"Simple. I stopped drinking," he told her, his hand coming up to touch hers.

"The champagne," she said, her mouth forming a small little 'o' as she remembered how he had refused the champagne at the Anniversary Ball.

"Why didn't you tell me anything!" she asked, hitting his arm. He shrugged in response.

He tugged her arm, urging her forward. He planned to send her off safely to the train station before it gets pitch dark, even if it pains him to see her leave.

"You said I looked happier. I'm not... I'm not happier, I don't think I am. But I feel... different, in a way, you know? Like, I'm free from some sort of shackle," he turned to look at her, to see if she understood what he was trying to say.

She nodded her understanding and laced her fingers with him as they continued walking down the gravel pathway.

"I guess… I guess without the alcohol, my mind is clearer and it lets me think better. That maybe, I could have a life away from the bottles, the liquor. I never had anyone to care about for the longest time, and then you came along. I had you and I lost you. I used to drink to forget my pain, to hide behind it but... what does that make me, eh?"

Effie squeezed his hands gently; resting her head on his shoulder.

Haymitch wasn't a particularly chatty man, preferring to observe others and keep his silence. But when he finally did speak, it was like a dam had broken and he was finally allowed to say whatever he had held close.

"I've learned to live with all that's happened to me, I am still learning to live with them. I'm not saying the world is suddenly a brighter, happier place but without the haze of alcohol I'm starting to see the good in it," he admitted.

"I think… I think, Haymitch, the alcohol had made you into a bitter person," Effie ventured to speak.

_No, the Games made me into a bitter person,_ Haymitch wanted to tell her, _the liquor just drowned me._

"Maybe," he said instead. "I couldn't change the situation. Couldn't change the fact that you walked out on me, that you left me," he told her, finally being able to say what he had wanted to say to her at the train station at the Capitol.

He saw her frowned, opening her mouth to say something, to argue. He raised his palm up, "No. No, listen to me, listen to me. I gotta do this, alright?"

She nodded, acquiescing to his decision. He started it, he needed to finish it.

"I can't change it, Eff. You left, and you were right to do so, I think. I was… I wasn't a very ideal person to be with. I was a mess. I could hardly deal with myself. After you left, the only thing that was within my control was to change myself."

He paused to collect himself. "I stopped drinking. Can you believe it? I still can't believe I did."

"Haven't drank a thing, not even a glass of wine for nearly five… six months, now. I don't know; ask Peeta, he kept count. It wasn't easy. Some nights, when thoughts of you occupied my mind, I thought it would be easier if I could just have a sip of whiskey. That it would make the nights more bearable. It wasn't easy, it's a day to day battle, a chronic condition, and there were some nights where I just wanted to succumb to the temptation," he confessed.

He shook his head and gave a bitter laugh. He scratched his cheeks and made to walk away. "Come on, it's getting late," abruptly changing the subject.

He felt Effie's soft hand wrapped around his wrist and he turned to look at her. She stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His hands slowly came up and enveloped her in a tight warm embrace, inhaling the smell of her hair.

"I'm proud of you, Haymitch. I'm happy that you're doing this for yourself," she mumbled into his chest.

He nodded; not knowing what else there was left for him to say. He had told her everything he could, everything important. The rest was up to her. If she thought he was not worth it and unredeemable, if she thought he was a lost cause, there was nothing he could do. He had no right to stop her from going back to the Capitol, no right to force her to stay with him. He had his chance and he blew it.

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	7. Chapter 7

**First off, I would really like to thank you guys who had reviewed and to Anons, thank you too, since this is the only way i can reply to Anons. :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

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Chapter 7

As the train station came into view, Haymitch grew more restless. He wondered when she would visit again, wondered how long he had to wait before he could see her once more. He wanted to ask her but for some strange reason, his tongue felt like lead, his hesitance at asking surprising himself. And truth be told, he felt he had no right to ask such questions since it was through his actions that she was driven away in the first place.

"The train's this way, Eff. I know you've left Twelve for quite a while, but really, sweetheart, not much has changed, the station is still at the same place it was the last time you stayed," he called out after her as she continued walking past the station.

"My things! They're at Victors Village," she called out, turning around to look back at him.

He was right then; she must have visited Peeta and Katniss, deposited her things and made her way to the meadow. He sighed, thinking about how he would have to escort Effie back to the train station once she had collected her luggage from Peeta's and Katniss' house.

They walked back to Victors Village silently, Haymitch throwing furtive glances at Effie who seemed to have a permanent smile etched on her face as she took in her surroundings, occasionally taking a deep breath, inhaling the air around her. _Mad woman, _he thought to himself.

"Oh, look! There's Mrs. Tyler with her little boy," she said, pointing to a middle-aged woman with an apron covering her grubby dress and a boy, sucking on his thumb and standing beside his mother. As far back as Haymitch could remember, Mrs. Tyler was always seen with an apron no matter the time of day. A burst of laughter threatened to escape his lips as an image of Mrs. Tyler going to bed with an apron entered his mind. He saw Effie giving him a dirty look.

"Hello, Mrs. Tyler, how are you doing?" Effie asked, waving at her enthusiastically. Effie's jovial mood was apparently infectious as Mrs. Tyler broke out into a huge smile as she waved back.

Haymitch left Effie at the sidewalk as she began chatting animatedly to Mrs. Tyler who lived across from him and whom he had never bothered to make small talk with before. Knowing Effie, she probably had a lot to talk about and he wasn't going to linger around like a mother hen while they chatted. No, he would go back to his house and think of something appropriate to do.

Opening the door to his quiet empty house, he nearly jumped out of his skin in shock as he felt something brush against his leg. He looked down and saw a cat with a grey fur coat and yellow feline eyes staring at him, its long bushy tail flicking lazily in the air. _Curious, Buttercup doesn't look like that, does he? _He had never seen this cat before.

"Go away," he scowled, pushing the cat away from him. The cat slid past him into his house with the grace only a feline could possess. Haymitch grunted and went after it. He saw the tail disappearing from view into the corner as he stepped into his sitting room.

"Oh, fuck!" he cursed as he stumbled over a huge object obstructing his pathway. He crawled and fumbled over the walls looking for the light switch.

As the lights flooded his house, his eyes fell on an ugly pink suitcase lying on its side. Another with the same colour and design, smaller in size, lay beside said huge ugly suitcase. _Effie's,_ he thought.

As though summoned by his thoughts, she walked in.

"Oh, I see you've found my things."

"Found your things? Your suitcases nearly murdered me," he retorted. "And, what are they doing... How did you even get in here? I did lock the door."

"Katniss," she replied simply.

_Of course. Katniss and Peeta had a spare key to my house._ Just in case if anything were to happen to him.

_But that does not explain the presences of her suitcases sitting pretty as they please in the middle of my sitting room, _he reflected warily.

"For someone who's just visiting, you sure brought a lot of stuff with you," he commented dryly.

"If you must know, Haymitch, I just came from District 4. I visited Annie and little Finn," she told her, as she began to neatly stack the piles of discarded newspapers on his coffee table absentmindedly.

He raised an eyebrow at watching her slip into an act she was comfortable in, organising and cleaning his mess.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, that was presumptuous of me!" she said when she realised that Haymitch had gone quiet and was staring at her with an amused expression on his face.

"Haven't changed a bit have you, sweetheart?"

He brushed past her, crossing the room towards the kitchen. She followed and as he turned back to look at her, he saw her frown at the sight of the dirty dishes stacked on the kitchen sink.

"Tea?" he offered. She politely accepted the cup he offered her and cringed.

"It's cold, Haymitch. You're serving me cold tea."

"Well, at least it wasn't from this morning!" he replied defensively, sitting down across her.

"Then when was this tea from? The day before?"

"Sarcasm, sweetheart? Really?" he smirked at her.

"Learnt from the best," she mumbled.

She picked up a wooden box that was on the kitchen counter and turned it over in her hands. Haymitch watched as her hand glazed over the surface of the box, feeling the smooth texture. Effie could tell that it was made from mahogany and it had been patiently, intricately carved by someone. Someone had carved a forest on the top lid of the wooden box and as Effie squint her eyes to examine it, she could see markings where the chisel had slipped from the makers hand and marred the otherwise beautiful artwork.

Haymitch reached to take it from her.

"This is beautiful. Where did you get it?"

"Made it," he told her.

"You made this?" she asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

"Yeah,"

"It's beautiful. I didn't know that you could –"

"Picked it up. Nothing to do anymore; had to occupy my time with something. It's not very good, my hands are not very steady," he told her. "Alcohol withdrawal."

She smiled at him, "I think it's beautiful, still."

"The wood...it reminded me of you. That one time on the train when you screamed at Katniss about...you know," he waved his hand uncertainly, referring to a time that seemed so long ago.

She placed the wooden box back on the table. He pushed it towards her, "You can have it. I don't know what to do with it. Maybe you can, I don't know, keep your stuffs and jewelleries in it."

Effie beamed at him and Haymitch's heart thudded painfully in his chest. _Oh, to have her smile like that because of him, because he'd done something for her._

He glanced at the clock. Half past eleven at night.

"It's late, Eff. The last train... You should leave if you want to cat–"

"Are you chasing me out?" she laughed.

"No! No, of course not, I mean..."

"I know," she replied, briefly touching his arm before she turned and made her way back to the sitting room.

She began to gather her suitcases, carrying each suitcase in one hand. On closer inspection, the smaller of the two was a cat-carrier and the grey cat from earlier was pressing its nose on the metal barrier.

Haymitch watched her from the doorway in his kitchen, a fist clenched at his side.

"Thank you for the mahogany box and for your hospitality... even if it's cold tea," she told him, chuckling.

She stepped closer. "I'm... What you told me while we were at the meadow, thank you. I know how much you value your privacy, so... thank you for sharing it with me and, Haymitch?" she called out his name.

"I'm really, really proud of how far you've come." She paused. "Well, I'll be off; I think I should be able to reach the Capitol by morn-"

"Stay," Haymitch blurted out. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he snapped his mouth shut. His throat felt dry. That was not what he had planned to say. The thoughts may have lingered in his mind the entire time Effie was sitting in his kitchen but he had not planned on asking her. It was too soon. She would say no and knowing Effie, she would find a polite way to decline.

_What in the name of Panem did I just do?_

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**As usual, let me know how it was!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Alright, this is an extremely long chapter. Don't say I didn't warn you guys ;)**

**Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins :)**

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Chapter 8

There was a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence as Haymitch stared at Effie who was in turn, sizing him up. _Say something, _he urged her silently. The silence was almost unbearable.

"I'm sorry?"

He cleared his throat, and wet his lips. "It's late," he gestured towards the clock.

"I meant, you know... You should stay. You could go back to the Capitol tomorrow. Unless you have something already planned at the Capitol?"

She tilted her head to the side, considering his offer.

He hastened to add, "Well, I'm just saying if you don't feel like spending the night on the train and you need someplace to stay for the night you could ..." he waved his hand around his house. "I don't mind."

"I guess you're right. If you're sure you don't mind –"

"No, no, I don't."

"Come along, then." He led the way and they began to climb the stairs to the upper floors where his bedroom, a guest bedroom and an empty room he had never bothered to about before were situated.

His steps faltered as a thought entered his mind. _Do I lead her to the guest bedroom or to mine? She would think I was assuming far too much if I __led__ her to my bedroom._

It wasn't his intention. He offered her his home for her to spend the night because he knew she did not like spending the night on a train. He had witnessed her moving about restlessly at night in the train all those years he had spent his time by her side as a mentor and she as an escort.

He stopped in front of the guest bedroom and opened the door for her, letting her step into the room. She placed her suitcase and the cat-carrier in the middle of the room and surveyed it. Walking over to the windows, she pushed it open to let some fresh air in.

"Bit dusty. Sorry, about that," he told her.

"Oh, it's alright."

She walked towards him and smiled sweetly up at him.

"Thank you, for letting me stay," she stood on tiptoes and kissed him softly on his cheeks. He nodded and turned away, closing the door behind him. He touched the place where her lips had touched his cheeks.

He would have gone back to his room and drank himself to a stupor had he not made a promise to stay sober. So much had happened within the space of a single day for him to absorb.

He knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Not with her in the room next door. She was so close, but it felt like there was a stranger in his house. Effie wasn't a stranger, he knew her, and she meant so much to him. He loved Effie. The barrier that existed between them now was almost too painful.

XxX

Haymitch stretched and rolled out of bed. He walked down the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. He smiled to himself thinking about the pleasant dream he had last night. A dream in which Effie came back to him, told him that she would stay with him and that he was forgiven. He dreamt of the meadow and of a strange grey cat.

He had long since given up on trying to make any sense out of his dreams. It was better not to linger too much on dreams. Walking down the stairs, he made up his mind to ask Peeta for her phone number and perhaps talk to her. It was about time he did something about the situation. Calling her would be the first step in that direction, it was a start.

"Oh, good, you're awake!" she said waving a ladle at him.

He stared at her, "Are you real? What are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Haymitch!" she said, hitting his chest with the ladle. He winced in pain.

"No, are you real? Am I hallucinating again?" the panic began to creep into his voice.

He saw her eyes softened at his apparent confusion. "Yes, Haymitch, I'm real, I'm here," she assured him, stepping closer and resting her hand lightly on his arm.

"Yesterday... The meadow... All of it, it was real, wasn't it?"

He was desperate; he needed to know if it happened. He remembered opening up his soul to her, broken and hopeful. It wasn't just a dream. He needed it to be real.

"Yes, Haymitch. It was."

"I asked you to stay the night?"

"Yes, you did."

He nodded, seemingly having remembered the memories from yesterday. His hands unconsciously fluttered up to cup her face. He traced her eyebrows, a lone finger trailed down her nose and his thumb grazed her lips, just to make sure that she was there; solid and human instead of just a ghost from one of his hallucinations. When he realised what he was doing, he hastily retracted his hand and cleared his throat.

"So that terrible grey ball of fur, that's yours?" he asked trying to dispel the awkwardness he felt had began to creep in. She beckoned him towards the dining table where she had laid out his breakfast.

"Yes and her name is-"

"Ms Nugget, I know. A real awful name if ever there was one."

She huffed in annoyance. She looked out the window and gestured outside, "What's awful is the noise those birds are making. What are they doing in your backyard in the first place?"

"They're mine, my geese," he said in between mouthful of Effie's terribly tasteless scrambled eggs and toast. _Some things don't change. One year and she still can't cook._

"Your… geese? Why do you even...No, I don't think I want to know," she replied.

She sat in front of him, her arms folded on the table, looking up at him expectantly. "So, how does it taste?"

He swallowed audibly and answered with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Good, they're tasty, sweetheart."

"You are a terrible liar, Haymitch Abernathy," she said, laughing softly.

"And you are a terrible cook," he retorted. They lapsed into silence before he looked up at her, his expression hardening. If he was ever going to apologise, now was a good time as any.

"Eff, listen. About that time, you know… When we fought, when I said those horrible things to you, I'm sorry, I really am." He hung his head and took a deep breath.

"I was a terrible excuse of a human being and I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness. But Eff, I apolo-"

She rested her hand on top of his and told him softly, "Haymitch… Haymitch… remember what you told me; if it happened yesterday then it stays there."

He cocked his head to the side and locked his eyes with hers; surprised that she remembered his advice.

"I know. But what I said, it haunts me. I just... I'm sorry."

She gave him a sad smile. "I forgive you."

He closed his eyes and let out a long relieved breath. He had recurring nightmares of how Effie had harshly told him he had not deserved her forgiveness and how much she never wanted to see him again. The cruellest of dreams was when he had begged for her forgiveness and she had laughed in his face. He often jerked awake with beads of sweat running down his body, breathing heavily as he tried to convince himself that Effie would never be that cruel.

XxX

Effie was sitting on the sofa with a dirty old rag in her hand. She was bent slightly forward wiping the numerous coffee stains left by his mug on the coffee table.

"I've called the station to check the train schedule for you. The next available train leaves in an hour," he told Effie. He had a rather proud smile on his face thinking of how Effie would appreciate him taking the initiative to do something like that.

Effie's hand stilled at his words. She bunched the rag and threw it on the coffee table. His smile slowly vanished as he realised that Effie had gone quiet and contrary to her chipper, enthusiastic self that morning, she looked almost miserable.

"What's the matter?" he asked hesitantly, afraid that he might have done something to upset her. He moved to take a seat beside her on the threadbare sofa.

"Are you that eager for me to leave?"

"What?" he frowned in apparent confusion. "No. I just ... I thought you would... Don't you want to go back to the Capitol? Don't you have a schedule to keep to?"

"Oh, stop it with the schedule!" she snapped.

Haymitch kept his silence. He wasn't sure what to reply to Effie, wasn't sure what it was that she wanted. He watched as her cat padded up to her and lightly jumped up onto her lap. It curled into a ball and Effie slowly stroked its long grey fur.

After awhile, she began to speak. Her hands never stopped stroking her cat needing to do something with her hands.

"I'd stay if you asked me to, Haymitch. Stay here in District 12 with you, like how we were before... You know I will. Peeta has been asking me to come back to District 12, you know? He said you were miserable, he said that I was... He told me to come back."

Haymitch fidgeted in his seat. When he woke up this morning, he was not expecting to have this conversation with her. Everything seems so surreal. _She wanted to stay. _He only needed to ask her.

So why hadn't he? Why had he gone out of his way to check the train schedule for her instead of convincing her not to leave? He should be at her feet pleading for her to come back and making promises to her but it was not in his nature to do that.

He got up and started pacing. He knew he was wrong. He had asked to be forgiven and she had forgiven him. He had tried to change who he was and so far, he was succeeding.

But not for the first time in his life, Haymitch was afraid. He was afraid of himself. He remembered the look of disappointment on her face when she had found him passed out drunk or the hurt reflecting in her eyes when she confronted him the day she found his bottles hidden beneath a loose floorboard.

It had hurt him knowing that he was the reason she felt that way. And he thought, honestly, he thought it would be better for Effie to go, back to the Capitol where she belongs. Back with her people who would surely know the proper way to treat a lady.

He loved Effie and all he wanted was for her to find her happiness. After all that she had endured and faced, she deserved to be happy. Haymitch wasn't sure if he was the right person for it, wasn't sure if he could provide it.

He wanted her to stay so badly. And Effie would have stayed with him if he only just asked, but Haymitch couldn't in good conscience shackle her to him. She had nothing going for her in District 12; her job and her career were in the Capitol. And life with him? Why would she want that?

He had hurt her deeply once, he refused to do it again. He was bitter and broken, he was prone to lashing out in anger and one of these days, he was bound to say something that would cut her to the quick.

"It's enough for me that you've forgiven me, Eff. But, you can't stay here. You gotta go back to the Capitol. It's where you belong. It's where you'll be happy."

"You don't mean that," her voice quivering.

"I do. Get your things, Eff. I'll send you to the train station."

"I told you that I forgive you, Haymitch. Please, why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Effie was a fighter. She wasn't going to back down. Not easily, at least._ What I need now is a drink. Whiskey, scotch, or wine. Anything, really._ He mentally began to picture the cupboard in Peeta's kitchen where he knew Peeta kept his wine. _Stop it, Haymitch, stop it now,_ he rebuked himself.

"Effie," he stressed her name. "Get your things. Get your cat in that carrier. I'm not telling you again."

Her eyes flashed in anger. He'd done it now, he had provoked her.

"You do not get to order me around, Haymitch Abernathy," she jumped to her feet and her cat gave a yelp of surprise as it landed unceremoniously on the floor. She jabbed his chest to emphasize her point.

"Why are you so stubborn?" he asked.

"Why are you so impossible?" she retorted.

"No, sweetheart, this isn't how it works. You do not answer a question with another question." he snapped at her.

"Oh, but when it comes to you it's perfectly fine to answer a question with another? Such double standards, _Mitchie_." she mocked him, using the pet name Beetee had given him all those years ago.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. He opened his mouth to deliver another scathing remark but she was quick to cut him off.

"We're fighting again, Haymitch. I didn't come here to fight. I came because I wanted to see Katniss and Peeta, because I wanted to see you. I came because... I miss you. So much. But I didn't come here to fight," she told him, her voice breaking.

Haymitch moved to stand by the window, gazing out of it. His back was to her. He can't do this. He can't. _Effie deserves better_, he told himself.

She took a long-suffering breath to calm herself before speaking again. "It's just... The past one year has been difficult for me too, Haymitch. I miss what we had, and believe it or not, I miss being here in District 12. My only friends are here. You are here."

"You said I'll be happy at the Capitol but I went back, spend a year there and I wasn't happy. I wasn't," Effie shook her head dejectedly.

Turning around to face her, he said, "You got to... Give it time, Eff. You've lived your whole life in the Capitol, haven't you?"

"Really, you think so?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, just give it time. You'll find your happiness."

She sighed.

"You want me to go back?"

_No_, he thought. "Yes," he answered instead.

"Will you call me? Will you still be my friend?"

"Yes," he swallowed the lump in his throat. It won't be easy being her friend. It won't be easy standing on the sidelines watching her possibly live her life with some other man, someone other than him but if it that man could give her everything she needed, he'd do it.

"Promise you won't be a stranger."

"I won't. I won't be a stranger."

She nodded wiping a tear from her eye and smoothed her dress. She brushed past him and almost as an afterthought, turned to face him.

"Is there... Is there someone else?" she asked him, her eyes searching his face.

Her question took him by surprise. Did she really think that she was being replaced?

"No." he shook his head vehemently. "_No._"

"Okay."

Biting her lower lip, her voice came out in a whisper. "You don't love me anymore, is that it?"

"Effie... Effie, please. Please just gather your things."

He couldn't answer her. How was he supposed to tell her how much she meant to him and by that virtue how much he wanted her to be happy, to be safe?

Effie did as he asked. She called her cat to her, and soon she was standing in front of his door, her suitcase in one hand, the cat carrier in another.

"I'll ask Peeta or Katniss to send me off. You don't have to. Take care of yourself. Goodbye, Haymitch."

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**Reviews? Tell me your opinion.**

**Another A/N: After this long chapter, I hope it could tide you guys over cause I think the next chapter won't be until the following week!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know I said that the next chapter won't be until next week. But I had a fall on Tuesday and injured my ankle so suddenly, I find myself with a bit more time on my hand. Hence, the chapter today! :) & so many angst towards Haymitch from your reviews! Ehehehe.**

**Thanks for all your reviews, everyone. Heartfelt thanks 3**

**Disclaimer: Not Collins.**

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Chapter 9

The door closed behind Effie with a soft thud. Haymitch moved towards the window and watched as Effie climbed the stairs to the front porch of Peeta's and Katniss' house, her hands shaking as she knocked on their door. Opening the door, he watched Peeta approached Effie with concern etched on his features. He gathered her in his arms and brought her in. Haymitch saw Peeta glanced towards his house before both Peeta and Effie disappeared inside his house.

Haymitch strode across the room towards his backyard and crossed over to the small shed he had built adjacent to his house. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, his mind racing furiously. Picking up his chisel, he sat on the stool and began carving on the teak wooden plank before him. The smell of wood and the slow, careful movements required seemed to calm him down.

When the door slammed opened a few minutes later, and Katniss stood blocking the doorway with her hands on her hips, Haymitch was again annoyed.

"What?" he snarled at her.

"What did you do to Effie?" she hissed at him.

Haymitch ignored her and continued working; the mallet making a steady rapping sound against his chisel. He could feel Katniss staring daggers at him and if looks could have killed, he would have been dead.

"Is she gone?" Haymitch asked, looking up briefly at Katniss.

"Yes," she sighed and dragged a stool to sit across the carving table from Haymitch. "You drove her away again."

"Hmmm."

"You're stupid."

"Watch it, kid. You may have been the Mockingjay but you better watch what you say," Haymitch snapped at her as he put his mouth inches from the wooden plank and blew the dust away.

Katniss raised an eyebrow in challenge. Haymitch looked up and saw the determined expression on her face. The same expression Katniss wore when she and Peeta stood face to face with nightlock in the palm of their hand. _She won't be leaving until she knows what's going on, _Haymitch sighed internally.

He let out a breath and released his hold on the carving material which fell on the table with a clang.

"She's gone. What does it matter?"

"It matters because when Peeta and I had finally managed to persuade her to at least come and visit; you went off and made a mess of everything."

"You did what?" he asked in a low deadly whisper.

"How else was she supposed to know that you've changed? That you're sober? Really, Haymitch, I would have thought you loved her judging from the numerous times Peeta and I heard you moaned her name and called out for her during one of your hallucinations."

He blinked and averted his gaze. Haymitch brought his hands up to cover his face; his fingers digging into his eyes as he furiously rub them in frustration.

"It's better," he mumbled. "She's better off without me. Look at her, Katniss. Now look at me," he gestured towards himself. His shirt was rumpled and soiled; his shoe was stained with mud from where he had stood feeding his geese, his hair was a mess and carelessly swept back from his forehead.

"Why would she want to be with me? She belongs to one of those ridiculous Capitol men. Someone who would know how to... I don't know. Take her to dinner or buy her new colourful clothes and jewelleries. Someone who would treat her properly."

"Why can't _you_ treat her properly? If she wants one of those '_ridiculous Capitol men'_ as you put it, I'm sure she would have found one by now. She's Effie Trinket, she knows how to talk her way into people's heart." Katniss replied, trying to make Haymitch see sense.

He shook her head. "No. No, it was a mistake. Once she realises... No, she wouldn't be happy with me. You don't understand."

"Yeah, because nobody bothers to explain to me anything," she rolled her eyes. "Tell me, anyway, even if I don't understand."

"Whatever was going on between Effie and me, it happened during the Games; a few years before yours. If it wasn't for the Games, if she had not had to spend weeks being in the same Penthouse with me for hours on end, do you think, just for one moment that Effie Trinket would have even bothered about me? It was a mistake," he threw his hand in the air and kicked his stool.

"It was a mistake borne from the human need for solace, comfort and companionship especially when ... when we had tributes dying on us year after year. Now that there aren't any more Games, she could finally lead her life and meet new people. She would finally realise what she was missing."

"It wasn't a mistake, Haymitch. Effie would have put a stop to it if she had thought it was and Effie always knew what she was doing. Mistakes don't go on for years like that. That's just an excuse. What are you really hiding?" Peeta's voice cut through the air.

Both Haymitch and Katniss turned to find him leaning against the doorway with his arms folded on his chest, a frown on his face. _Peeta must have just returned from sending Effie off_, Haymitch realised

"What are you afraid of, Haymitch?" Peeta pushed himself off the doorway and advanced towards Haymitch. "You're afraid of being rejected? Because as far as I know, from what Effie told me, she had wanted to stay here with you, she wanted to come back. You're afraid of getting hurt? Afraid Effie would find a man better than you and she would leave you with a blinding pain that you cannot deal with? Or are you afraid of yourself? That you can't give her what she wants, that you're not good enough for her, perhaps? Are you scared that you will hurt her? Because Haymitch, you already have."

Haymitch's hand gripped the edges of his work table. Every word coming out of Peeta mouth was like a blow to his gut. Peeta hardly ever got angry but Haymitch knew how much Effie meant to Peeta. They had formed a bond during the time of their imprisonment together and Effie had become a female authority figure to him after his family was taken away from him during the bombing of District 12.

"I didn't know you think so lowly of Effie. I didn't know you had no faith in her. If you thought she would leave you when someone better came along or if you thought she don't love you enough that she was willing to accept you with all your flaws, give up her life at the Capitol for you, look after you all those years you were working together, then maybe, you don't really know her and you don't really deserve her. Maybe, like you said, she would have been better off at the Capitol with someone who actually appreciates her," Peeta told him in a steady, measured voice before turning on his heels and walking out of the shed.

"Peeta's right, Haymitch. Effie had years to figure it out if she doesn't want you or if she isn't happy with you. Now that you're sober, you really could have a shot with her, but your mistake was letting her go," Katniss told him before she too left him alone.

XxX

For days, Haymitch kept replying the scene in the shed with Peeta and Katniss. He kept hearing their words in his mind and he knew, deep inside, they were right. He was a fool. Effie had never asked anything from him, never once indicated that she was miserable with him. _Maybe it's true. Maybe I really did make Effie happy._

As he lay on his bed with an arm draped over his forehead, he remembered the only thing Effie had asked from him as she lay beside him in this very same bed after the Rebellion ended.

"Mitch, you awake?" she asked quietly, a finger tracing circles on his naked chest.

"Hmmm,"

"You know I love you, don't you?" she whispered. Haymitch cracked an eye open and looked at her.

"I've spent so many years cleaning after you and helping you to bed when you're too drunk to find your way. The Rebellion ended and everything as we know will change. Can't we change along with it?"

"What you mean, Eff?" he blinked sleepily.

"Well..." she propped herself on her elbow to fully look at him. "I don't want to see you coming home drunk or passed out drunk with no memories of the night before anymore. It pains me, Haymitch. You can control your drinking, can you?"

Haymitch frowned at her request. "You said _we_ can change. If I do that, what about you?"

"Haven't I already?" she touched her blonde hair. "I don't know if you noticed but I haven't been wearing a wig since I was rescued. Very light layers of make up, too," she said rather proudly.

"Of course, I noticed. How could I not?" he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned forward to claim her lips. He ran his tongue along Effie's lower lips begging for entrance but Effie pushed him away.

"Stop trying to distract me," she swatted his hand away as it travelled down from the swell of her breast to her navel. "Will you, Haymitch, will you try to control your drinking? I know how difficult it is to stop drinking at once, I'm not asking you to do that. But please, please try not to drink too much. It's bad for your health," she implored.

He looked at her, really looked at her and not for the first time, he counted himself lucky that she was still here with him instead of simmering in hatred at him for having left her the night the victors broke out of the arena.

That night, like many nights to follow, he made a vow to stop drinking for her, a promise he constantly broke.

The sound of his geese honking broke him out of his reverie. Swinging his leg to the side of his bed, he took a deep breath as his mind began to think of ways he could still salvage the damage he'd done. Rubbing his neck, he thought about all the new ways they had found to fall apart over the years. _That has got to stop,_he told himself furiously.

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**A/N: Chapter 10 has been written and beta-approved. So I shall upload it on Sunday!**

**In the meantime, reviews?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for your lovely reviews! :)**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my plot.**

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Chapter 10

Peeta had left a pile of letters on the mantelpiece above his fireplace. The unopened letters had been sitting there for three days and Haymitch still couldn't bring himself to sort through his mail. He didn't receive mail often; most of the mails were newsletters from the Capitol with steady stream of information to update its citizens of the rebuilding currently being carried out or had been completed all over Panem.

But as he glanced towards the mantelpiece, a magenta coloured envelope caught his attention. He gingerly picked the envelope up and noted that his name was written neatly in Effie's small cursive handwriting. He slid out a piece of lilac coloured paper and unfolded it.

_Dearest Haymitch,_

_How have you been? I hope this letter finds you well, if you bother checking your mailbox at all._

_President Paylor sends her regards and so does Beetee (say hello to Mitchie, he says) who is here at the Capitol for a meeting regarding communications in the Districts._

_I have been meaning to call you but I'm afraid I have never gotten round to it. It wasn't because I was busy and couldn't find the time, but I wasn't sure how you would receive my call._

_I thought I should start off with a letter. I know we didn't really part on good terms but I've had time to think. I kept replaying the conversation we had in your sitting room just before I left and I realised that while you had wanted me to go back to the Capitol and that you had denied meeting another woman, you had never answered my last question. You didn't say you didn't love me anymore. It gives me a strange sort of comfort that perhaps things are not lost._

_It led me to wonder why, of course. If you still do love me, then why drive me away? You are an extremely complicated man, Haymitch Abernathy. There must be a reason. You hardly ever do anything without a good reason unless when you are drunk but you and I both know that you weren't drunk that day. _

_You kept saying that I would be happy at the Capitol. Why is that, I wonder? Why do you think I can't be happy with you in District 12? I had spent nearly two years living in the same house with you at Victors Village and I was happy, Haymitch. Is it so difficult for you to believe that?_

_Yes, it hurts when you kept breaking your promises and going back to drinking your life away. But you've changed. I never did apologise. I'm sorry, Haymitch. I'm sorry I left you. I shouldn't have. I should have stayed and helped you. I should have been there when you were trying to get better. I can never forgive myself for letting you go through it all alone. But please, let me be there now._

_I've missed you so much, Haymitch. Seeing you at the Capitol during the Anniversary Ball was one of the happiest moments I had ever since I returned to the Capitol. Did you know that I called Peeta and Katniss so often hoping that you would be there at their house and that maybe I could hear your voice in the background? I know, I'm extremely foolish._

_I have everything I needed at the Capitol but you're not here and I miss you, terribly. I feel like I'm only going through the motions. Anyway, I think I've written long enough and I fear that I may bore you to tears. Please call me to tell me that you're okay._

_Yours always,_

_Effie_

Haymitch read the letter twice before bringing it up to his nose to sniff it. It smelled like her and Haymitch sat there speculating if Effie Trinket sprayed her citrus perfume on every letter she sent out. She had asked him to call her. But, truthfully, this was not something he could fix over the phone.

He contemplated asking Peeta or Katniss for help. Haymitch drummed his fingers on the arm rest of the sofa. _No,_ he thought, _there are some things that __I__ must do alone._ He flipped the envelope in his hand and turned it over. There, written in such small print that Haymitch had to squint to read, at the bottom right corner of the envelope was a return address. Haymitch gave a self-satisfied smile. He knew where she lived now.

XxX

Haymitch had set out for the train station early that morning before either Katniss or Peeta realised he was gone. The sky was still dark with the occasional chirpings of birds as they roused from their nests. Haymitch relished the peace and quiet in District 12 with most of its people still sound asleep in bed.

Stepping on the train, Haymitch found a seat near one of the windows and settled down. As the train passed by each district, Haymitch noted how the fencing surrounding each district had already been taken down. Just like in District 12, he saw several Capitolites in the districts. Haymitch had a distinct feeling that those people were possibly representatives of the new Government, sent to liaise with the individual districts.

Haymitch felt himself growing anxious as the train neared the Capitol. Checking his watch, he noticed that it was nearly noon with the sun sitting high in the sky. Haymitch took a deep breath to gather his courage before he braved the storm of Capitol citizens. He made a beeline for the taxi stand and slid inside giving the Avox the address. He was lucky to have escaped the crowd without being stopped. He saw some of the people had given him a curious look, seemingly having recognised him from his time as a victor, mentor and one of the prominent rebels.

The taxi came to a screeching stop in front of a towering majestic building. Stepping out onto the curb, he made his way inside and fished around his pocket for the now extremely creased envelope. _18__th__ floor, _he noted and rushed into a closing elevator.

"Sorry," he mumbled to an odd looking middle age woman with pale blue skin. _She must have been one of those people that had dyed their skin an unnatural colour_, Haymitch thought as he recalled Effie telling him about the lifestyle of the Capitol people before the Rebellion. "Eighteen please."

Haymitch stood in front of Effie's apartment and stared at the white wooden door. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulder. Just as he was about to knock on the door, it pulled open and Effie walked into him.

"Ooff," he grunted.

"Sorry! I didn't see –"she stopped mid sentence and stared at Haymitch. Her mouth hanging open in surprised before she snapped it shut and shook herself out of her trance. "Haymitch?"

"The last time I checked, that was my name." He mumbled feeling slightly out of place. She stepped into her apartment and slammed the door in his face. He stared at it in surprise and soon enough, she yanked it open again.

"Oh dear, you're still here. You must be real, then," she chuckled to herself. _She's gone mad._ The thought flitted across Haymitch's mind.

"Did you call before you came? Did I miss your call?" she asked him.

"No. Was it rude of me that I didn't inform you before hand?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes, it would be rude. But, I shall make an exception," she smiled at him and shut the door behind her.

"Well, I was just going for lunch. Are you coming?" she asked him, already making her way towards the elevator.

He shook his and jogged to catch up with her. "Where to?" he called out.

"You'll see! Now come along,"

_Well, this is going to be interesting,_ Haymitch thought as they rode the elevator down.

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**How about some reviews? Hehe.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: No, I am not Collins.**

**Thanks for the lovely reviews, the favourites and alerts :) You guys are great :)**

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Chapter 11

"There's this cafe that I like to go to. They have really delicious sandwiches, I think you'll like it," Effie rambled off as she and Haymitch rounded the corner.

"Miss Trinket! Aha, you brought a male friend with you today!" The proprietor of the establishment announced. Effie flushed, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Oh, isn't this Mr. Abernathy?"

"Yes, I am," Haymitch stared rudely at the man before him.

As Haymitch took his seat across Effie, he realised that this was the first time they ever had a meal in the Capitol outside of the Penthouse, outside the context of the Games. It felt strange and yet, it felt normal.

He could have had this life if he had not been chosen as a tribute when he was 16, he could have gone on a date with his girl, take her out to Greasy Sae. Granted, no cafe in District 12 could ever have matched the fancy ambience of the cafe that they were eating at, but Haymitch was confident the soup at Greasy Sae could never be bettered by any in the entirety of Panem.

He could still have this life. He just needed to make amends with the woman sitting across him, smiling and nodding at the waiters and waitresses moving about serving the customers.

"They're from the various districts", Effie explained as she leaned forward slightly on the table, gesturing towards the waiters and waitresses. "We're working on ways to integrate the people of the districts and the Capitol. One of the ways was to open our doors and offer them jobs. We're slowly getting there. They're still distrustful towards us."

Haymitch nodded. When faced with a social setting, usually when they had to talk to sponsors, Effie would be the one who did all the talking, while Haymitch tried not to drown himself in liquor. It seems Effie hadn't changed in the slightest, still rambling on just to fill the silence.

"Here, I made this for you." Haymitch fished out a figure of a feline carved out of wood from his pocket and slid it across the table towards Effie.

"It looks like Ms Nugget," she observed, turning the figurine in her delicate hands.

"It's supposed to be."

"Thank you, Haymitch. It's lovely. No one has ever made me anything."

_I'll make you more if you agree to come back,_ he thought silently to himself.

They ate their lunch in relative silence and Haymitch used this time to study his surroundings. It was a nice, family-oriented cafe with adults and children sitting politely around the table, eating deftly with the culinary utensils, a scene unheard of in District 12. One of the children, a boy who looked about twelve locked eyes with him and smiled. He whispered to his mother and seemed to be pleading for permission to do something before walking with a bounce in his steps towards Haymitch.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry to bother you and your lady friend. My mother told me that you're Haymitch Abernathy. You were a Victor once and you helped with the... The Rebellion," he said, struggling to find the right words.

Haymitch chewed on his sandwich and swallowed before opening his mouth to answer.

"Yeah, I am. What do you want?" he felt Effie kicking him under the table and heard her cough out the word _manners._

"Can I have your autograph? Mummy says the Capitol is a better place to live in now that President Snow is not ruling. We don't live in so much fear anymore. She said we have to thank people like you."

Haymitch raised an eyebrow in surprise. The boy handed him a napkin and a pen which Haymitch promptly snatched from him and scribbled his signature. The boy beamed at him.

"Thank you, sir. And have a good day, both of you!" he said before running back to his mother.

"You've got yourself a fan!" Effie teased, before turning serious. "There are some people here in the Capitol who detests the new government, preferring the old ways but there are some like the woman and his son over there who prefers it the way it is now. Contrary to what you always thought, it wasn't easy living here in the Capitol. We have to watch what we say. People have disappeared overnight."

Haymitch nodded and gazed out of the window. Despite the calm composure he exuded, his heart was beating painfully in his chest as he tried to think of ways to bring the subject up and apologise.

"Why are you really here, Haymitch? I'm sure you didn't travel all the way to listen to me talk about the plans of the new government. You get that from the monthly newsletters."

"Nothing to do in District 12. Thought I'd see for myself what the Capitol really is like nowadays. Didn't see much during the Anniversary Ball," he replied.

"You hate the Capitol, Haymitch," Effie pointed it out to him.

"Hey, I'm a changed man, sweetheart."

Effie gave him an amused look.

XxX

"Well, where do you want to go?" Effie asked, shading her eyes against the bright glare of the sun.

He shrugged in response. He didn't know enough about the Capitol to even begin giving suggestions on where they should be going. The only places he knew quite well were the bars he frequented and it wasn't a place he was about to suggest Effie bring him to.

"Do you want to come back to my apartment? It's not much but well, it's better than being outside in this heat."

"Sure."

When Haymitch stepped into her apartment, he gave a cursory glance around and his eyes immediately latched on a photo that was framed and placed on top of the cupboard. It was a picture of him and Effie taken during the Victory Tour at the Capitol after Katniss and Peeta won the Games. It was the very same photo Effie had taken with her to District 12 and placed on the vanity in their room. In the photo, Effie was decked out in her Capitol clothes; wig, make-up, 6 inch high heels and a bright green blouse. Haymitch was standing to her right, a tight smile on his lips. He vaguely remembered being dragged away from Chaff as they downed glasses after glasses of wine to stand beside Effie for a photo of the mentor and escort of District 12.

"Here," Effie said, pressing a glass of cooling sparkling soda into his hand. Haymitch nodded his thanks. She went over to her phone and seeing the red beeping lights to indicate stored voice messages, she pressed the button. There were the usual messages from a colleague at work and then a male voice came over the speaker.

"Hey, Effie. It's Bastian. Listen, I was thinking, how about dinner tonight at 8? Call me back."

Haymitch looked up at Effie as Bastian, whoever he was, ended the message and clicked off.

"Date tonight?" he asked casually, trying not to sound too concerned or affected.

"No. No, he's my neighbour and... oh, just ignore him," said a very flustered looking Effie Trinket.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched as Effie crossed her legs and smoothen her dress out, picking invisible pieces of lint on the fabric just so she could do something with her hands.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask, how did you know where I lived?"

"Return address on the letter you sent me, sweetheart. Why? Am I not supposed to know about –"

"I was just asking, Haymitch."

"Tsk tsk, manners, Eff. I thought it was rude to cut people off mid-sentence," Haymitch chuckled at her affronted expression.

"I got an earful from Peeta and Katniss after you left," he started, scratching his cheek. "They've got quite a bit to say about the way I treated you that day."

"And what have _you_ got to say about the way you treated me?" she asked watching him carefully.

Haymitch shrugged. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Maybe?"

"No. I was wrong," Haymitch said holding both his palms apart. "I was scared, Eff. I just... I just had all these thoughts in my head and I was afraid that..." He ran a hand over his face.

"I was just afraid that I would hurt you again. I thought that I don't deserve you. You're ... God, Eff, look at you, you're amazing, and you can have anyone you want why would you choose me? I've already told you how messed up I was when you left. I couldn't face it, can't take the pain if you leave me again. What if I said something hurtful and you ended up hating me?"

"So... It was self-preservation?" her eyebrows wrinkling as she tried to make sense of what Haymitch was saying.

"I guess you could call it that, if you needed a name."

"Haymitch," Effie called out his name softly. She took his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lap, her thumb rubbing his knuckles soothingly. "I don't want anyone else. You make me happy. You with all your wit and sarcasm. You annoy me most of the time with your sloppy, disgusting living habits but you give me something to do. I think we work, Haymitch. I've known you the longest and with you, I can be myself. You understand me the most, and if you make me happy and I make you happy then that's all that matters."

"And you're bound to say something that will hurt me, Haymitch. It's who you are. You have a sharp tongue and your sarcasm doesn't help either. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I like your sarcasm; I find it entertaining sometimes when it's not directed at me. I will do things that I'm sure will set you off, too. But we have to work it through together. Talk things out."

Haymitch turned around to face Effie. With his free hand that was not in Effie's grip, he tucked a lock of her honey blonde hair behind her ears.

"Always the voice of reason," he said softly. Effie gave a small smile, laughing lightly. "Will you forgive me?"

"You don't have to ask. You know what your problem is?"

"Drinking?" he answered, venturing a guess.

"No. Well, it was but it's..." she waved her hands. "No, your problem is that your best intentions have the tendency to make a mess out of things, Haymitch."

Haymitch gave a crooked smile, acknowledging the truth in her statement. He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly against his chest. He dropped a kiss on her head as Effie's body began to shake.

"Why are you crying, now?" he whispered.

"Because I'm happy, you fool,"

"I will never understand you. Are tears your way of expressing yourself? 'Cause if it is, I might need to order boxes of tissues by the dozen for Victor's Village."

"Are you...?" Effie pulled back slightly to look at him.

"Yeah. So...?"

She shook her head. Haymitch felt his heart clench painfully in his chest and he struggled to find his breath.

"No. Ask me properly!"

He let out a sigh, relief flooding his body. "You've already told me you wanted to stay with me that day in my sitting room. What's the point in asking something I already know the answer to? And your letter suggests that -"

"Because it's only polite, Haymitch, and don't be smart with me," she huffed in annoyance.

"Oh, but I am. I am smart, you told me so yourself," he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her nose. His hand snaked around her shoulder and pulled her close to him.

"Ask me anyway," Effie said, a finger circling a button on his shirt.

"Come back with me."

"That's not a question. It sounded like a command."

"And that is as good as you're gonna get," he told her smugly.

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**A/N: Leave a review and let me know what you guys think. Or how you want this story to go/what you want to see in it? It helps give me an idea or two on what you guys expect cause the way I see it, I could end this story in say, two more chaps? I could also continue it. Depends really.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The usual applies.**

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Chapter 12

Effie sat curled on his side on the sofa, his arm slung around her. Once in a while, he would hear her sigh in contentment. Haymitch leaned his head back and closed his eyes, relief that he had accomplished what he had set out to do when he left District 12 for the Capitol. He had explained himself to her and she, the forgiving gentle woman that she was, had taken him back.

"My mother used to tell me that things never go well without first going wrong. Well, she was of course referring to my make-up, you know, when I applied my mascara wrongly and it smudged," Effie smiled wryly to herself.

"I'm not sure I want to hear stories about a woman's beauty problem," Haymitch opened his eyes and mumbled against her hair. She nudged him in response.

"That's not what I was –"she sighed.

Effie pushed herself off him so she could look him in the eye. "I think all that could go wrong with us has gone wrong. Do you think, maybe...We'll be happy now?"

"My old man used to say that happiness is just an illusion," he shrugged.

"I don't know, Eff," Haymitch begins when he saw the uncertainty masking her features. "You and I, we are very stubborn people. We'll fight all the time, and that's not going to change, you realise that don't you?"

Effie nodded slowly.

"But... As long as we try, who's to say we can't make it work?"

Effie shook her head and brought her gaze down, letting her hair fall to hide the smile on her face.

"What?" Haymitch grumbled.

"Nothing. I just... I never thought I'd hear you say that," Effie replied as she interlaced her fingers with his and leaned her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she snuggled by his side.

Effie, Haymitch realised, when he woke up beside her in her bed at the Penthouse during those initial days when they had first started their relationship, enjoyed cuddling. He would often wake up to Effie with her arms wrapped around his torso.

That one morning, she had nuzzled against his neck as she unconsciously pressed her body to his, seeking his warmth and Haymitch's hand had wrapped itself around her. With his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, Haymitch was overwhelmed when he became conscious of how much he enjoyed the feeling of having Effie's warm body close to his, how he didn't mind waking up next to her every day and how it pained him to realise that probably meant nothing to Effie, that he was possibly just a distraction, someone she slept with because his proximity was forced on hers by the Capitol.

He let her use him. Let her come to his bed some nights, allowed her to tug his hand and lead him to her bed on others. There were moments when he was so drunk he couldn't remember anything except she would be there naked next to him with her arms thrown across his chest when he woke up. He might as well enjoy it while it lasted, he thought, so when Effie told him that she loved him for the first time, he had stiffened under her touch and turned his back to hers. She left him that night to go back to her own bed and Haymitch woke up alone the next day.

He had pretended that nothing was amiss as he brushed past her in the kitchen at the Penthouse, his hand grazing the small of her back and he dropped a kiss to the side of her neck.

"I meant it," she had whispered as she fixed herself a cup of tea. He had kissed her temple in response.

She told him she loved him every time they were together, in the cover of darkness as she lied there, cuddled beside him. He couldn't see her face and for that, he was glad. He didn't want to see the look in her eye as she waited expectantly for any reply from him. He never did. He had never said anything, had never told her how he felt until the day she woke up from her coma in District 13.

Haymitch often saw her touching people when she talked to them. A hand on someone's wrist as she tried to get her message across, her hand patting someone else's arm as she excitedly recalled a story she wanted to share. She always maintained a certain degree of contact when conversing with people. She insisted that it helped to develop a certain connection in order to express a deeper emotional feeling.

Haymitch had scoffed at her, insisting that nobody would want to be connected to her in any shape or form. His eyes had narrowed dangerously when he saw a sponsor step up close to her with complete disregard for her personal space and Effie had smiled at him, laid her hand on his arm as they chatted away animatedly. He ignored the ache in his chest, dismissing it as a sign of his failing health from all the alcohol he consumed.

Years later, as he sat alone in his assigned room in District 13, distraught over the recent information of Effie's capture, he finally identified the emotion. He was jealous. Effie was his and she was not allowed to touch or _develop connections_ with anyone else. Haymitch was a possessive man by nature and he had a distinct dislike of sharing what was his.

"How's Peeta and Katniss?" she asked, her voice forcing him abruptly out from his reverie.

"Hmmm? They're fine. And before I forget, I'm going back tonight. You don't have to come with me."

Effie froze. "What... What do you mean I don't have to come with you?"

Haymitch bit his tongue. He should have explained earlier; given her propensity for overthinking situations, she was probably conjuring up the worst possible scenarios in her head.

"I meant, you can't just leave everything behind and come back with me to Twelve, can you? I don't know. Don't you have to settle things here? Your job. This apartment," he said.

"Oh, you're right. I just... I thought you changed your mind."

Haymitch sniggered. "Sweetheart, if I wanted to change my mind, I should have done so a long time ago when you first dragged me by my collar to your bed, clawing at my shirt."

Effie turned beet red at that memory. "Well, why didn't you? Why'd you let me, the person you claim you hated to even kiss you?" she retorted, trying to turn the tables and gain the upper hand.

He shrugged, "Got a woman throwing herself at me, must be a bit mad to turn it down."

"I did not throw myself at you! I was –"

"Upset, I know. Well, if that's the story you want to tell people, go ahead."

"I've never regretted it," Effie told him softly.

"Hmmm." He hummed. "I'll wait for you at District 12, okay? I'll pick you up. I will. I will write it down somewhere, so I won't forget."

Effie laughed, her forehead crinkling and her hand fluttered to his cheek, tugging his ear playfully.

"Knowing you, you'd forget anyway."

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**A/N: Well, I thought a glimpse into how their relationship developed during the Games was due. Hmm. What do you think?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

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Chapter 13

Haymitch arrived back at District 12 the next day and set off for Victor's Village. Try as he might to school his features, he couldn't help a small grin from gracing his face whenever he thought of Effie.

A few of the town's people had given him strange, confused looks when he walked past them, having never seen Haymitch in such a spirit before. He had nodded at them and continued walking, lowering his gaze to allow his hair to fall and hide his smile.

He pushed the door open and froze, staring at the sight before him. Having already seen Effie's clean organised apartment, he noted with startling realisation how different his house was compared to hers. There were dirty coffee mugs sitting precariously on stacks of newspapers discarded on his table. Some of the cushions that was supposed to be for his sofa were lying on the floor, and upon closer inspection, he had rolled up and stashed some soiled clothes under the sofa. _Out of sight, out of mind__._

Effie would have been appalled at the state of his house. He would have to at least clean up a little and attempt to make his house look slightly presentable before she arrives. Haymitch wasn't sure how long she would take to settle her affairs in the Capitol. She had promised that she would call beforehand.

He began to gather the coffee mugs and dirty laundry in his hand. When he walked into his kitchen, his face fell in dismay. His kitchen was in a much worse state than his sitting room. Stacks upon stacks of dirty dishes were piled high on the sink. He had never bothered to wash his plates after his meals and as a result he just kept piling it up, telling himself he would clean it later.

Once in a while, Greasy Sae would come around to help him clean his house but Haymitch managed to mess it up faster than she could clean them.

Haymitch discarded his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and stood before his kitchen sink. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and slowly began the dreaded task of washing his dishes. As he was drying the plates and utensils, Peeta walked into his kitchen, slightly out of breath.

"Ahh. You're back."

"Did you run all the way just to make that simple observation?"

"I heard people saying that they saw you alight from a train this morning. Care to tell me where you've been?"

"No," he said as he wiped his hands on a dry cloth and began putting the clean plates away.

"So, this..." he gestured towards the relatively clean kitchen. "You're washing and cleaning your dishes and your sitting room looks a bit neater, I notice. All this has nothing to do with your short getaway?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "You know someone who will wash my laundry for a price?"

XxX

The first time his phone rang, he considered not answering it. It would discourage whoever who was attempting to reach him from ever calling him again at nine in the morning and that was just fine with him. As he covered his head with his pillow attempting to block the sound of his phone, the cloudy morning haze in his mind cleared and he realised that the only person who would even try to call him would be Effie.

He scrambled to his feet, tossing the sheets wrapped around his legs aside and ran down the stairs two at a time.

"Hello?" he answered panting slightly.

"Haymitch! Were you still asleep?"

He smiled hearing Effie's familiar soft chipper voice over the phone.

"Yeah, yeah I was but it doesn't matter now. Anything wrong?"

"Oh, no. I just... I just thought I'll call and see how you're doing."

Haymitch chuckled and leaned casually against the wall, the phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder.

"Fine. You quit your job yet?"

"I wanted to talk to you about it, actually."

"Yeah?"

"I tendered my resignation yesterday morning and ... Well, President Paylor accepted it but my last day will be in a month's time."

"Why?" he asked feeling slightly confused.

"Well, I had to give her one month's notice. I have to clear my work before someone else takes over. It's how things are done here in the Capitol and in the offices. You can't just quit immediately, Haymitch. It'll be irresponsible to just abandon everything."

Haymitch frowned, clearly unhappy with the news. He had never understood all these red tape barriers and bureaucratic paper work. During his time as a mentor, he had let Effie do the relevant paperwork required of him every time two of his tributes died.

"So I should be expecting your arrival in a month's time, then?"

"Yes, if all goes well. And one more thing, I'll be bringing Ms Nuggets along."

There was a slight pause before Haymitch spoke, "That grey ball of fur? Yeah, you bring it along, sweetheart, but I'm telling you if it tries to harm any of my geese then, I'm throwing it out."

"You can't do that! That's extremely rude, Haymitch. And unlike your noisy geese, my cat is an angel."

"Yeah, Eff, whatever," he hung up before Effie could squeeze in another protest.

They continued very much in the same fashion for that one month as Haymitch waited for her arrival. Effie would call him at night nearly every day after she returned home from work and Haymitch, never one to speak much, would listen to her as she regaled him with stories of the new employee whom she had to coach or whatever she thought was interesting enough to be shared with him.

"Listen, Mitch, President Paylor made me an offer."

"I don't like the sound of that," he mumbled as he lay in bed talking to her.

Effie laughed. "I imagine you wouldn't. But listen to it first, okay? She proposed that I come by the Capitol once in a while or whenever –"

"Whatever for? Is that woman in love with you or something?"

"Haymitch! You know there are meetings going on every now and then at the Cityhall to discuss the running and administration of Panem. She wants me to sit in on the meeting, assist her with it."

"I don't see the point, Eff. If she wants you to go to the Cityhall for those meetings then what's the point of hiring a new assistant?"

"Well, Plutarch and her thought-"

Haymitch made a noise of displeasure at the mere mention of Plutarch's name, something Effie caught but chose to ignore.

"As I was saying, they thought it'll be good for me to continue. I do want to help, Haymitch. I want to feel useful. I wasn't... I wasn't there when all of you were fighting for the Rebellion, I couldn't help back then, but I can now."

"Hey, hey, it wasn't your fault. You were captured, Eff. Nobody will hold it against you for not fighting."

"I know. I know that, but, Haymitch..." Haymitch heard her sniffle on the other line and he knew she must have flashbacks of the time she was imprisoned.

"I understand, Effie. If you want to do this, if you want to go back to the Capitol for these meetings whenever they need you, then you should. I... I want you to be happy, to do things that will make you happy. I ain't gonna hold you back, you know that."

"I just wanted to run it by you first. Thank you."

"You'll be here with me in Twelve the rest of the time. So go ahead, sweetheart, do what you think is good."

"Thank you, Haymitch." She paused. "I'll be there in another two weeks or so."

He grunted a reply. He swung his foot over the edge of the bed and rummaged through his drawer for his calendar. He circled the date Effie had estimated she would arrive and wrote down in bright red ink, a reminder for him to pick Effie up from the train station. Two weeks seemed like a long time.

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**A/N: Sorry about the length. It's quite short, I think. Bit of a filler chapter. The subsequent chapter will be a little more interesting, I hope. An idea sort of came to me a few days back & so, I'm gonna work with it. **

**Please review :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Just wanted to thank everyone who had reviewed and those who had urged me to continue with this story when I could have ended it. Thank you for putting it on favourites & alerts. You guys are awesome.**

**Disclaimer: I am not Collins. She created these brilliant characters.**

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Chapter 14

_Vanilla,_ Haymitch thought as he sniffed the air. He turned his head so that his cheeks were pressed against the pillow as he slept face down on his stomach. After nearly a year of being sober, his hallucinations from the alcohol withdrawal had lessened somewhat but it still bothered him once in a while.

It was only by sheer power of will and months of practice that he managed to ignore and block Effie's scent and fell into a restless sleep. Only this time, the smell didn't fade; it grew stronger.

Haymitch blinked his eyes open, trying to focus his gaze. In his line of vision, he saw a swirl of pink fabric. _I don't own anything pink,_ he thought to himself. Slowly, he dragged his gaze upwards, and locked his eyes with a pair of piercingly sharp blue orbs that could only belong to one person. He took in the sight before him; Effie Trinket was standing with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed at him while her lips were pursed into a thin line.

"Oh, damn," he cursed as he shot upwards and stumbled out of his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. He toppled forward and made a grab for Effie who managed to steady him.

"Told you, you'd forget."

"No, no," he shook his head, bending down to gather the sheets in his arms before throwing them on his bed. "I remembered. Marked it on the calendar," he nodded towards the calendar taped on his wall with a black circled around that day's date.

"You overslept, then?"

Haymitch rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, yeah, I guess I did."

Effie shook her head and walked out of his room. He trailed after her, "You mad at me, Eff?"

"No. I expected it, so I made plans with Peeta last week for him to pick me up at the train station today."

"Oh," he replied lamely.

"Shall I put these in the guest bedroom?" Haymitch gestured towards her suitcases in the middle of his sitting room, a sly grin on his face.

"Don't you dare!"

"My room then," he said picking them up.

"Our room."

XxX

Effie settled in rather quickly, as though she had never left District 12. Haymitch was worried about how things would be between them. Would there be a certain degree of awkwardness as they both tried to re-adjust living with each other again?

He decided to take his cue from Effie who was currently bustling about in the kitchen preparing tea. He came to stand by the doorway watching her thoughtfully. She jumped at the sudden noise of one of his geese honking. Haymitch chuckled to himself.

She swivelled around and smiled at him when she saw him. Effie gestured for him to take a seat and he did as he was told, obediently pulling a chair up. She placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of him. He leaned forward inhaling the sweet fragrance.

He took one of the buns on the plate that Effie had pushed in his direction. "Peeta gave us some after he dropped me off," she explained.

"You should eat more, Haymitch. I think you've lost a lot of weight ever since... Well, you should just eat up," Effie urged him before sitting down across him.

He tore the bun in half and dipped it in his tea before biting into it as Effie watched in obvious amusement.

"You're the only person I know who does that."

"What? This?" he asked dipping the other half in his tea. "It softens it, makes it easier to swallow. I don't even have to chew. Here try it."

He held the soak bread in front of her lips waiting for her to open her mouth. The tea dripped from the bread to the table staining it. "It's dripping all –"

He stuffed the bread in her mouth and Effie who was not prepared for it swallowed the bread instinctively

"Your laziness knows no boundaries, Haymitch. Now, before you decide to choke me with more bread, I'm going upstairs to unpack," she said in mock anger before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips.

She gave a wry smile and kissed him again. "For the first time, when I kiss you, you taste of something other than liquor."

XxX

"Effie? Effie!" Haymitch shouted, frantically opening doors and checking each room for her. He ran down the flight of stairs, something he would not have been capable of if he was still a drunk, and burst out of his front door.

He saw Effie walking casually, a bounce to her footsteps, a basket dangling in her arm as the wind gently blows the yellow dress that hung around her small petite frame. He heaved a sigh of relief and walked down his front steps to meet her half way. Her face broke into a smile when she saw him.

"Where've you been?" he asked, opening his arms to her, and dropping a soft kiss on her temple.

"To visit Peeta, see, he gave us some bread," she answered showing him the basket.

"I thought…" he trailed off, scratching his neck.

"You thought what?" she asked curiously.

"I thought you left me," he replied, feeling slightly foolish.

"Oh, Haymitch, I'm sorry. I should have told you where I went," Effie said as she slipped her hand in his.

He didn't have to explain himself. Effie knew that ever since he made the decision to be sober and stopped drinking a year ago, he had grown increasingly worried that the past few weeks were just his hallucinations; that Effie had never came back or that unknown to him, he had made a blunder and she had left him, again.

There were days where Haymitch knew he worried her by randomly walking up to her to trail his hand up her arms, to tenderly cup her cheeks in a shaking palm, to just touch her and physically confirm that the Effie before his eyes was real and not just a cruel figment of his tormented imagination.

Some nights, when the occasional tremors shook his body, his hand would search for Effie's under the covers and he would hold on to her. He would feel Effie's arms wrapped around his as she stroked his hair, murmuring soothing words to him. He would return the favour when she was caught in the throes of her nightmares - which she said were not so bad now that she was no longer sleeping alone- the way he used to comfort her before she walked out on him

XxX

That night, they lay in bed facing each other, Effie's cat curled at the foot of their bed. Haymitch was adamant that the cat not be allowed anywhere near their room at first but he soon gave up when Ms. Nugget scratched against the closed doors wanting to be let in each time he carried her out. Effie had laughed at his efforts to keep the cat away, "She's as stubborn as you, Mitch. Maybe that's why I bought her in the first place."

He grumbled in response before slipping back under the covers. She laid her head on his chest and fell silent.

"Eff?" he whispered softly after awhile, as he trailed the outline of a scar on her back.

"Hmmm,"

"You awake still? I gotta... There's something I need to tell you."

She raised her head and met his eyes in the dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the moon and street lamps filtering through the cracks in their curtain.

Haymitch swallowed before opening his mouth to speak. "Peeta told me... He told me everything about your time in prison," he finally admitted to her.

She blinked and looked away. "It wasn't his story to tell," she whispered, untangling herself from him as she sat up in bed.

"It wasn't, but don't blame him, sweetheart. He needed me to understand what you went through, needed me to understand why you acted the way you did."

He reached out for her hand and held it in between his.

"I was so scared. I didn't understand why I was taken. I knew nothing about the Rebellion..." she trailed off, the memories too painful for her to continue. Even years after her imprisonment, Effie avoided the topic of her capture like a plague.

"They knew about us, Eff. We tried to be as discreet as possible but somehow the Capitol knew and... They used you, the same way they used Peeta to get to Katniss. It was an added bonus too; they thought I would have told you all I knew about the Rebellion."

"That's what kept me alive, isn't it?" she asked softly, biting her lower lips. "I had no information, nothing to offer them and yet they thought I was keeping something from them. That perhaps, I knew something and refused to cooperate? That was the only reason they didn't kill me."

"We think so. Plutarch and I."

Effie turned away from him and curled on the bed, dragging the blankets up to her chin as though to ward off and cocoon herself from the memories of her capture.

"You're one of the bravest people I know. You made it through the war; you kept Peeta and Katniss alive. _You_ kept me alive. These scars," he trailed his finger on the burnt marks on her hip bone, "they just show how strong you are, how brave you've been."

She sniffled. Haymitch waited for his words to sink in. Slowly, she turned around again and crawled into his arms. Haymitch gathered her up and tucked her head under his chin as he rocked her to sleep. "I love you, Eff," he murmured softly, dropping a kiss on her head.

XxX

Haymitch was screaming at her, while she stood her ground, her eyes ablaze with anger.

"You keep that stupid cat away from my geese, Effie!"

"It's a cat, Haymitch! It goes where it pleases!" she snapped, throwing a cushion at his direction. He ducked and scoffed pitifully at her. He found Effie's habit of throwing things when she was angry drastically in contrast with the woman who insisted on everything being proper and orderly, the woman who stressed the importance of manners.

"Put a leash on it or something! I'm telling you, Eff, that thing you call a cat? It's evil. It may look adorable to you but let me tell you something, sweetheart; it's anything but adorable."

"You are barbaric! Nobody puts a leash on their cats!"

"I don't see the problem, you can be the first," he told her. Effie huffed in annoyance and brushed past him out of the sitting room.

"Where're you going?" he shouted at her retreating back. She ignored him and continued walking. Haymitch didn't see her for the rest of the day.

When he walked into the kitchen that evening, after spending the day in his shed unleashing his anger on the piece of wood he was currently working on, he saw Effie standing over the stove, stirring a pot with a ladle. He inched closer and slipped his hand around her waist, dropping a kiss on her neck up to the sensitive skin behind her ears.

"Mad at me?" he asked, nibbling on her ear lobe.

"Still think cats should be on leashed?" the movements of her hand never faltered as she continued stirring.

"Probably not the best idea. Your cat looks fragile, it might choke."

She twisted in his arm and glared at him. "That's the best you can come up with for an apology, I assume?"

"Wasn't aware I did something that warranted an apology in the first place," he said as he tore a piece of bread and dipped it into the red sauce she was constantly stirring in the pot.

Haymitch choked. "Too much salt," he complained.

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**A/N: This chapter was a vignette of the different scenes and the way they interacted with each other since Effie came back. Don't fret, there'll be more interesting plot development coming on .. two chapters from now. xo**

**Reviews are always appreciated :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: The usual applies.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

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Chapter 15

Haymitch squinted against the fierce glare of the sun. He straightened up, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead and cracked his aching back from all the time he had bend down as he mowed the front lawn.

"I could pay someone to do this," he grumbled loud enough for Effie to hear. She was balancing a tray containing two glasses of iced lemon green tea as she made her way down the porch towards him.

"The work is good for you," she chuckled as she offered the glass to him, and kissed his lips to soothe him. "Here, this will help you cool down."

He nodded his thanks and gulped the contents down. He climbed the steps up to the porch where Effie had settled down with her feet curled underneath her on the loveseat. Haymitch patted her knee and she scooted to accommodate him. Swirling the ice around his glass, he watched her as she chewed the end of her blue pen, deep in thought.

"Thought you were due to visit the Capitol for some meeting this morning?" he asked, pulling Effie out of her thoughts.

"What?" she looked up, a frown on her face. "Oh, Plutarch called about a week ago said it wasn't necessary for me to come down this month. He sent over some paperwork for me to look at," she waved the bundles of paper in her hand.

"Good," he replied. His fingers worked to unbutton the first few buttons on his shirt that was sticking to his skin while his other hand pressed the cooling surface of the glass to his cheek.

He looked up to see Effie staring at the fingers that were deftly working on his buttons. He cleared his throat and Effie snapped out of her trance, blushing furiously. He smirked and leaned forward so much so that his face was a mere inches from her. At the same time, he placed the glass on a small table next to the seat.

"Weather's bit hot, don't you think? I was thinking of a shower," his hand trailed up from her ankle to her thigh, slipping past the edges of her floral dress as it inched higher.

"I have work to do," she whispered, his hand stilled. Haymitch could feel her breath on his lips. He deliberated. Effie had made no move to stop him other than to tell him what he already knew, that she had work to do.

"You do, don't you?" he placed a kiss on her lips and pulled back slightly, looking at her intently. His hand on her resumed its movement as it caressed her inner thigh. He felt Effie's breath hitched. Haymitch knew Effie's sensitive and ticklish spots and her inner thigh was one of them. She shifted uncomfortably under him and let out a moan as Haymitch began placing wet kisses on her neck.

It had been nearly two months since Effie had returned home and Haymitch hadn't wanted to push her. So he had taken things slow; random caresses and touches, deep passionate kisses that left them both breathless, spooning on the bed as they fell asleep but nothing more.

The sound of someone clearing his throat registered at the back of Haymitch's subconscious and he felt Effie's hands on his chest slowly pushing him away from her. He turned and saw Peeta standing there shuffling his feet.

"Umm, sorry to interrupt. I could come back, I guess."

Haymitch's head thudded against the crook of Effie's neck as he groaned. He wanted to kill Peeta. Just when things were going well and Effie seemed to want it as much as he did, Peeta had spoiled the mood.

"Oh, no, no, Peeta. Come on up," Effie gestured as she slid out of Haymitch's grasp. She straightened her dress and patted her hair, the blush still evident on her pale cheeks.

"What?" Haymitch growled out at him. Peeta gave a sheepish smile and his eyes slid to Effie.

"I'm not sure if you heard, but there's a new family moving in," Peeta explained.

"I heard it, yeah. So?" Effie swatted Haymitch's arm.

"Be nice, Haymitch." she warned him.

"A bunch of us are off to the Seam to help with the building of their house. Why don't you come down and help? It'll be –"

"No," he replied. The Seam was destroyed when District 12 was bombed during the Rebellion but it had since been rebuilt and the funding from the new government had helped made the Seam a much more habitable place. The name had remained despite the reminders of the time of poverty and hardship they had all suffered under President Snow because the Seam had always been a part of District 12.

"You're really great with woodwork, Haymitch. We could use your expertise. I mean look at your shed, you built it yourself so I'm guessing it won't be that much of a difference helping with a house. Help me out here, Effie," Peeta pleaded, turning his gaze to Effie who had been watching the exchange silently.

"It's not a bad idea, really."

"No, Eff."

"Come on, Haymitch. This is the first family from another district that's moving to Twelve since the Rebellion. We want to welcome them –"

"So, each time a new family from some other district decided to relocate to Twelve, we all come together and build a house for them? Is that it?"

That was by far the most ridiculous thing Haymitch had ever heard. He wasn't sure why Peeta even thought of roping him in, what gave the boy the notion that he would sacrifice his time and efforts to build a house for a stranger.

He turned to look at Effie who was eyeing him. He did not like the look in her eyes. It sparkled with determination.

"I think it's a good idea, Haymitch. Go out there and be a good citizen, help them. You get to meet people instead of being cooped up in this house with only me and your geese for company. It'll do you good. Besides, it's not like you have anything else to do here in this house. All you've ever done is feed your geese, mess the house up after I have cleaned it up and insult my cooking."

Haymitch shook his head adamantly. "If I want to meet people, I would have gone down to town but, sweetheart, truth is, I like my solitude. I'm not always alone; there's you, Katniss and this boy here," he nodded at Peeta.

Effie ignored him. "Go on, go and help," she said pushing Haymitch off the seat. He didn't budge, instead he turned to give Effie an annoyed look.

"Yeah, Haymitch, come on. It won't be long. Probably just a couple of days, we'll all work together and the job will be done before you know it."

Haymitch grunted and slowly got to his feet. "The only reason why you want me to go so much, Eff, is so that you could work in peace without me getting in your way," he waved towards the stack of paper on the table.

Effie covered her face and laughed, nodding at his words. "Don't think for one second that I don't know you, Effie Trinket," he told her as he dropped a chaste kiss to her lips.

Peeta gave a small smile at their exchange before turning on his heels with Haymitch by his side, making their way towards the Seam.

XxX

Haymitch came back that night just in time for dinner. Effie was in the kitchen, the phone cradled on her shoulder as she scribbled on a pad of paper. She looked up briefly when Haymitch stepped into the kitchen.

"I got it, Plutarch. I've got to go, now. Yes, yes of course, I'll send the documents to you tomorrow morning. Alright, bye," she hung up and put down the phone.

Haymitch went straight to the sink and placed his mouth under the faucet. He turned it on and began drinking straight from it. When he had quenched his thirst, Haymitch placed his entire face under the faucet and let the water run.

He heard Effie tut in disapproval. When he looked up, Effie pressed a clean towel on his hand which he took to wipe his face with.

"How was it?" Effie asked.

"Hard work," he answered truthfully. He sat down at the table and began eating. Haymitch could feel every muscle in his body screaming in agony. Aside from the training Peeta had put him under before the Third Quarter Quell, Haymitch had not had reasons to subject his muscles through such exertions, a possible reason why it was aching so much.

He had not had anything to eat except the sandwiches Peeta had brought along to the worksite. Suffice to say, he was famished. He was so terribly famished that he did not even bother to savour the food Effie had cooked, swallowing it with minimal chewing and stuffing more food in his mouth. He was too busy eating to insult her cooking.

"I met them - the new family. Came from District 8, got married before the Rebellion from what Peeta told me. Both of them lost their family, they're moving here to start a new life," he told Effie in between mouthful of beef stew.

"There are a lot of relocations among the districts. I'm surprised that this was District 12's first, to tell you the truth."

Haymitch shrugged, not particularly bothered. It was none of his concern. Haymitch would never relocate to a different district. This was his home, no matter how many bad memories were associated with this place. When he was at the Seam earlier that day, he had passed by the spot where his house used to stand, where he had lived with his family for 16 years before he was crowned a victor and moved to Victor's Village. Now, someone else had built a house there - that piece of land had become a home to another family. As he stood there, lost in thought, watching the family inside, he wondered if they knew that his family had been murdered at the exact location where they now reside.

He stood under the tree that had withstood the Capitol's bombing. Haytmich tiptoed to level his gaze with an area on the tree where in his youth, he had carved his initials and the initials of his girl. Finding the spot, he traced it with a finger absentmindedly. This was the tree he had used to stand under as he waited for his girlfriend after school each day. _Haidee, the sweet girl with hair of the darkest brown it almost looked black._

"I have to go to the post office tomorrow," Effie said.

Haymitch swallowed the bread, "I'll walk you there, on my way to the Seam."

XxX

The next morning found them walking in town heading towards the post office, hand in hand. Haymitch leaned against the counter as he waited for Effie to finish posting out the mail.

"Hello there, Haymitch," the old man working at the post office greeted him. He raised his hand in acknowledgement and dipped his head.

"Working on the house at the Seam?" the old man's voice came out in a wheeze. He had been working at the post office as far back as Haymitch could remember and it seemed that even in his old age, he gave no indication of quitting any time.

"Yeah, I am. Going there in a while - once she's done," he jerked his head towards Effie.

The man gave a smile, making the lines around his face more wrinkled. "Pretty girl. You're a lucky one, aren't you, m'boy?"

One of Haymitch's fingers rubbed his temple uncomfortably. "Yeah, I am," he nodded.

Haymitch was glad how things had slowly changed; Effie had slowly been accepted into District 12. She was no longer treated as a stranger and people around town had greeted her the way they would have greeted Haymitch when they saw her walking down the streets.

When the Rebellion ended and Effie had moved with him to District 12, she wasn't treated kindly. Some of the residents had given her contemptuous look of disdain; some were bolder, insulting her and calling her names but lucky for Effie, they had not been violent. Effie was affected initially, she had refused to step out of the house for fear of being subjected to hateful stares and name calling but slowly, with Haymitch's and Peeta's encouragement, she had learned to venture out. When Haymitch wasn't too drunk, he would accompany her sometimes as she visited the town to shop for household supplies. She was always polite, despite the way she was treated. She would say her please and thank yous, smile at everyone and the ice around their hearts had slowly melted as they learned to move on from the ghost of their past. Seeing Katniss, the face of Rebellion walking around town with Effie at times helps, too.

So when Effie had packed and left for the Capitol, leaving Haymitch behind a year ago, people talked and asked around for her whereabouts.

"I'm done," Effie announced, standing in front of him. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Haymitch nodded and dropped a kiss on her cheeks before walking away. That night, as the hour on the clock continued ticking, Effie had paced around the sitting room, gnawing her nails worriedly. Katniss came over as the night grew late and together they waited for Peeta and Haymitch to return. Both of them never made it home that night.

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**And, we'll find out more in the next chapter!**

**Reviews are love :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Not Collins. **

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Chapter 16

Haymitch struggled to breathe. He was in an excruciating amount of pain. His body woke up before his mind did. He felt the pain but he couldn't comprehend why.

There was something pressing down on his chest, making it difficult to draw in oxygen. He tried to expand his lungs as best as he could but it wasn't enough, he felt like suffocating.

Haymitch tried to rationalise his thoughts. When he first opened his eyes, his first thought was of the arena. _I can't be back there. I can't, I can't. _His ears picked up the sounds of male voices, urgent and frantic.

_"Are there anyone trapped inside?"_

_"I don't know. Somebody do a head count."_

_"Where is Haymitch? Has anyone seen Haymitch?"_

That last voice sounded like Peeta's. Despite the pain, he heaved a sigh of relief. _Peeta._ If that was him, it meant Haymitch wasn't in the arena. He opened his mouth to shout for help but his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. His breathing was laborious enough, let alone to get enough air in his lungs for him to shout.

"Help! Peeta!"

It sounded pitiful. He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of the chaos happening outside the collapsed house.

He lifted his head and glanced down at his body. A thick wooden beam lay across his chest, trapping him. Haymitch managed to wriggle his right hand free from the small space between the floor and the beam, scraping bits of his skin along.

He desperately tried to push the beam off him. His left hand was trapped and when he tried to move his fingers, the pain shot up straight to his left arm. He bit his lip in surprise at the ferocity of the pain. He screwed his eyes shut and when he felt the pain had lessened in intensity, he continued to desperately push the beam off him with his free hand.

It moved about an inch or two. He congratulated himself but it was short lived as the movement of the beam caused bits of wood to fall from what was left of the roof on him. His hand flew to cover his face.

A loud thud startled him and he saw a bright red brick had landed inches away from his head. _Too close. _He looked up. Half the roof had collapsed and he was surrounded by rubble. It was dark, the only light coming from the pale full moon illuminating his grimy face.

If he was going to die, the last thing he would see would be the moon. At least as he lay there in agony, he knew the moon was real, not some Capitol made hologram like how it was back during his Game. _Small comfort._

He wanted a drink. He desperately wanted a drink if only to numb the pain. Haymitch closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

_One. Two Three. Breathe out. _

_One Two Three. Breathe in. _

He tried to call for help. Again, his voice could not be heard. Still, he tried. He called out again and again. Somebody was bound to hear him. That was what he tried to convince himself of as he tried to calm the slowly rising panic in his chest refusing to allow his mental faculties degenerate under the strain that they were on.

Haymitch wasn't sure how long he had been shouting for but he felt the last vestiges of energy leave him. His head fell with a thud, his breathing becoming more laboured and erratic. He flexed the muscles of his right thigh and it brushed against the soft fabric of his cotton pants. It was wet, and sticky. His leg was bleeding but he couldn't tell how bad it was.

_Stay awake, Haymitch. Stay alive. You survived the arena - you can make it through this._

He thought of Effie back at their house in Victors' Village. She must be worried. An image of her swam before him. They had their whole lives ahead of them; they had just settled in. He had just made amends with her. This wasn't fair. He had given everything; his innocence, his youth, he gave himself to a cause and all he wanted was to live in peace. _This isn't fair_, he thought angrily to himself. _I don't deserve this._

He felt himself growing angry; at Peeta, at Effie. If he hadn't listened to them in the first place, if they hadn't insisted he help, he wouldn't be trapped underneath the godforsaken rubble.

The anger coupled with the fear he felt at being trapped and dying alone brought on a surge of adrenaline in him.

He was a survivor. _I had survived for so long, I will survive this ordeal_. Haymitch was determined to make it out of this place alive.

_Just stay awake. One, two three, breathe._

His free hand reached out for the brick that had nearly crushed his skull earlier on. Slowly, he tapped the brick against the hard cemented floor. It made a dull thudding sound that reverberated around the hollow collapsed house. He began tapping the brick in sync with his breathing.

_One. Two Three. Tap_

_One. Two Three. Tap._

_Tap, tap, tap._

He waited to see if he had caught anyone's attention and when things stayed the same, he continued tapping. It was easier than shouting.

His eyelids began to droop in exhaustion. He shook his head a couple of times to force himself to stay awake. _Don't fade away._

He wasn't sure how long he had been trapped there. He glanced up at the sky between the cracks of the half collapsed roof. The moon was gone, replaced instead by a bright scorching sun.

Despite his fight to stay awake, he must have fallen asleep somehow because it seemed to be mid-day. He continued tapping. The brick and the cement floor seemed to be his only way to survival. He fervently hoped that someone had a hearing as sharp as a mouse - to pick up the sound of his brick against the floor.

His brick. The only way he could return back to Effie.

He was thirsty. His throat felt like sandpaper. He wished it would rain.

"Haymitch! Haymitch, open your eyes. Come on, Haymitch, open your eyes if you can hear me."

"Damn it, Haymitch, can you hear me?"

The voice penetrated through the haze of pain his mind was trying to block. He opened his eyes, blinking against the glare from a flash light and craned his neck slightly behind him.

"Peeta," he croaked out.

He watched the immeasurable relief on Peeta's face, the way his eyes roamed the length of his body assessing the situation. He could only see Peeta's face through the small crack. They were still separated by layers of broken wood and bricks.

Peeta extended his hand through the cracks and for the first time since he held the brick that was his lifeline, Haymitch released it. His fingers curled around Peeta's hand.

"Hang in there, Haymitch. We'll get you out. We're trying to clear the rubble away."

"Water."

Peeta shouted for water. He released Haymitch's hand and pressed an uncapped bottle of water to him. He gulped it down - wetting his parched lips and coughing violently at the sudden large amount of water Haymitch just desperately consumed. He poured the water on his face, washing away some layers of dust that had settled over his olive skin.

"Effie?" he asked.

"She's okay, Haymitch. She's worried - Katniss is with her. Don't worry about her. It's you that you should think about."

XxX

Peeta stayed as the others worked to get Haymitch out. Haymitch was told that there was another man who was trapped not far from where he was.

They got the man out first, before working their way in towards where Haymitch lay injured and trapped. Peeta gave a constant report of Haymitch's condition to the rescuers and Peeta's persistent urging for Haymitch to stay awake kept him conscious.

Peeta held his hand and squeezed it gently now and again when he felt Haymitch slipping away.

By the time he was pulled out of the rubble, Haymitch was exhausted, completely drained to the bone. The right side of his pants were soaked with blood from a puncture wound, which he found out later on was not fatal. His hip was aching, a dull constant ache. His left wrist lay at an odd angle. He had lacerations wounds all over him. The blood that had seeped from his forehead to his hair had dried, leaving a red trail behind.

They laid him down on a makeshift stretcher, the moon high in the sky. He sensed a flurry of activities by his side when he was pulled out and Peeta's hand was replaced by a warm, small familiar hand. _Effie._

Her face hovered above his, replacing the moon. She had been crying, he could tell. He wanted to tell her that he was okay, but the words died on his lips. He was so exhausted.

Effie's face was the last thing Haymitch saw before he slipped into unconsciousness.

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**Thank you all for your reviews in the previous chapters, you are all extremely golden!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I am apparently not Suzanne Collins, so the characters are not mine. :/**

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Chapter 17

"The surgery went well. He hasn't woken up yet. I don't know, Katniss, he looks so pale -"

Haymitch lay still on the unfamiliar hard bed as he listened in on the conversation Effie was having on the other side of the curtain surrounding him. He blinked groggily, trying to focus his attention on the one-sided conversation. _She must be on the phone, _he deduced when he failed to pick up Katniss' voice.

He took in his surroundings. He was in a hospital but it was nothing like the one in District 12. Everything looked new, the machines were sleek and appeared to be up to date compared to the ones they had in District 12.

"Eff?" he called out, his voice sounded out, harsh from disuse. He cleared his throat and called out again.

"Katniss, I got to – I'll call you again," he heard her say.

The curtain was pulled back and Effie poked her head in. Haymitch took in the sight of her. She looked tired and worn out, the dark circles around her eyes prominent. When she saw that he was awake, she rushed to his side and brushed the hair out of his eyes, a small relieved smile on her lips.

She sat down on the chair and took his hand in hers, rubbing it slowly against her cheek. He moved his left hand to cup her cheeks but soon realised that it was wrapped in a white plaster cast. He looked up at Effie questioningly.

"Fractured your wrist," she told him.

"Anything else?"

Effie blinked and lowered his hand that was rubbing her cheek to his bed. Effie smiled at him, but it wasn't the usual bedazzling smile he was used to. It looked pained, as though she was hiding something from him.

"You should rest, Haymitch. I'll get the doctor, see if there is anything else they can give you for the pain," she mumbled softly.

"Heard you on the phone. Something about surgery - it went well, yeah?"

She lowered her gaze and nodded slowly.

"Don't see what the bad news is if it went well. Tell me," he asked firmly.

Haymitch waited as she slowly looked up to meet his gaze. He could see the uncertainty marring her features.

"You broke your femur - something about an oblique fracture according to the doctor. You... You won't be able to walk for a few months, Mitch. You'll be confined to bed for a while," Effie explained, the pad of her thumb rubbing smooth circles on his knuckles.

He pulled his hand away from her and stared uncomprehendingly at the ceiling.

Haymitch was a predominantly reclusive man by nature, hardly venturing out of his house other than strictly necessary. But that was by choice. He _chose_ to stay at home, he _chose_ not to go to town. The fact that he was bed-ridden for what could possibly be months was forced on him - his choice robbed away from him. He knew if he decided to go to the town, or the meadow, he could but not now, not with that fracture.

Effie was quick to try and placate him, his face growing bleaker by the moment, "At least you're here, alive and well. It could have been so much w-"

He interrupted her. He didn't need her pity or for her to tell him that he was lucky. "Where is this place?"

He sounded irritated and he saw Effie bit her lip worriedly.

"A hospital. You're at the Capitol," she said softly.

"What?" he raised an eyebrow, "Why am I here? You brought me here, didn't you? Twelve's healer not good enough for you, sweetheart?"

"I did, yes. They sent a hovercraft over after the healer in Twelve stabilised your other injuries. You broke your femur, Haymitch, you needed surgery. Twelve didn't have the facilities and –"

There was only one hospital standing in District Twelve currently, rebuilt immediately after the war was won. The facilities and machines were much improved but progress was slow as the government tried to spread its resources equally amongst the districts, to avoid accusations of favouritism.

"What other injuries?"

"Puncture wound to your right thigh from a nail-" she nodded towards a glass phial containing a 2 inch nail coated with dried blood, "fractured rib, contusions and abrasions. When you were brought here, you were wheeled off to surgery straight. That was two days ago. They put you under to allow your body to recuperate from the exhaustion and the dehydration."

As Effie listed out his injuries, he began to notice the pain and aches that were previously masked by morphine. His chest felt extremely uncomfortable, every breath brought on a dull ache. The thigh where the nail had pierced through had a sharp stinging pain. Like his wrist, his fractured leg had been casted after the surgery.

"If you hadn't insisted that I …" he shook his head, swallowing the words he wanted to say.

Effie seemed to understand what he meant.

Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Haymitch. Peeta's sorry, too. If we hadn't forced you, if you had just stayed at home like you always do… this wouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."

He looked at her briefly before tearing his gaze away, resolutely closing his eyes. Haymitch knew that it was neither Effie's nor Peeta's fault but he said nothing to abate her guilt. Part him blamed her but his rational mind -which seemed to have abandoned him at the moment from all the drugs that he was under- knew that there was no one to blame. Not the people who helped built the house, not the two young couple he was helping and most definitely not the woman sitting by his bed side.

He heard the sound of chair scraping against the floor as Effie stood up. She pressed a soft kiss on his eyebrow before the door closed softly behind her.

Haymitch was left alone with his dark thoughts. He fell into a restless sleep where dreams of being paralysed, of his fracture not healing properly and of Effie walking away from him claiming she never wanted to be with a cripple haunted him.

XxX

"Is there anything else you need? Want anything in particular for lunch?"

"No – you can leave," he told her testily, ignoring the way Effie pursed her lips at the off-hand dismissal.

Haymitch was annoyed and frustrated with the circumstances that he found himself in. He was transferred back home two days ago after being hospitalised for some time in the Capitol – Haymitch wasn't sure, he couldn't keep track of time. Effie on the other hand had only gotten worse, fussing over him like a small child.

She had helped him in the shower that morning, wrapping the casts on his leg and wrist with plastic to prevent water from seeping in and Haymitch had never felt such humiliation in his life before. With his self-care skills reduced to that of a child and being entirely dependent on Effie had caused a perpetual black cloud to hang over his head.

"Eff, if anyone comes to visit, send them away. I don't want to see anyone," he told her as she reached the door.

He had a steady stream of visitors back at the hospital; Katniss and Peeta, Plutarch who had arranged for the hovercraft to Twelve, Beetee and even the young couple from Twelve whose names were Erika and James Isaacs. Haymitch found their overbearing concern nauseating and he hated the looks of pity in their eyes. The only person who had not acted any differently, who still treated him the same was Katniss with her snarky comments which strangely put him at ease.

XxX

"Just stay still, Haymitch," the town's healer, Mrs. Hewson told him, as she slowly unwrapped the gauze and inspected his puncture wound.

"It stings," he grumbled, as she applied a thin layer of antibiotic ointment on the wound.

"Won't sting for long, it's healing very well and not festering."

Once she left, Effie placed a bowl of minestrone soup on his bedside table. She fluffed his pillows and helped him into a half sitting position.

"I can sit on my own," he snapped at her.

"I'm just trying to help, Mitch."

"Are you going to feed me lunch, too?"

"I wasn't - no. You don't have to be so difficult, you know?"

"Difficult? Why don't you try being confined to bed rest with your bones all broken, Effie. As though that's not bad enough, I have to put up with you hovering around me all the damn like I'm something fragile - like I'm so damn helpless. It's suffocating, Eff. You are so bloody overbearing, why don't you just bugger off already?"

He hadn't realise he was shouting. At the end of his tirade, he was breathing heavily and Effie was staring at him, her face a mask of shock. He could see the hurt flicker in her eyes.

"Eff, I...It wasn't..."

"I'll leave you to your lunch. If there's anything you need, I'll be in the sitting room doing my own work, just call out," her voice wavered as she tried to control her emotions. She turned on her heels and closed the bedroom door with a soft click.

Effie had been patient with him ever since he woke up at the hospital in the Capitol, tried her best to be understanding. She had tended to him to the best of her ability, hardly ever slept and when she did, she slept lightly - worried that she won't be able to hear Haymitch in case he needed anything. He saw her once reading a book she had bought from a book store at the Capitol on bone fracture and how to care for them. He had scoffed at the sight of her, curled beside him with the book in his hand.

"Trying to be a nurse now that the positions of escorts are no longer available?" he asked, sneering at her.

He sighed. He was out of line, he knew it.

Effie's grey cat jumped lightly on the bed and padded up to him. It must have followed Effie when she entered the room and didn't manage to get out before Effie closed the door. Ms Nugget glared at him as though knowing that Haymitch had just said something hurtful to her owner. _Effie's fierce protector_. Haymitch pushed her away gently with the hand wrapped in a plaster cast.

"Go away," he mumbled.

The cat flicked its tail and curled into a ball at Haymitch's side, blinking its eyes sleepily at him. _Her cat has got some serious mood swings._

As he ate his lunch, Haymitch resolved to treat her nicely. It wasn't fair that he was taking out his frustrations on her.

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**Tell me what you think. Hope you liked reading this chapter. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Still living a completely ordinary life so it must follow that I don't own the Hunger Games**

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Chapter 18

The curtain whipped gently against the window that had been left open and sunlight was streaming through, lighting up the room. Haymitch blinked his eyes groggily and yawned, shaking his head to rid himself of the sleepiness that permeated his head.

He turned towards Effie's side of the bed and realised that it had not been slept in - the pillows were still neatly propped on the headboard. She had not slept on the bed that night. Effie had either taken his words to heart and buggered off or she had stayed up all night working on the paperwork for Paylor.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door opened and she walked in, a large smile plastered on her face.

"Oh, good you're awake," she said, her high pitched Capitol voice - which Haymitch had not heard for quite a while - was chipper. Haymitch knew then by the tone of her voice that something was wrong and she was trying to mask it.

She placed a tray containing his breakfast and bottles of pills at the foot of his bed.

"Your breakfast will be tasty. I didn't make it – Katniss did, and her cooking is much better than mine," Effie told him as she fussed around the room nervously. She smoothened out the blanket that was laid across his feet and fixed the curtain so it stopped flying around from where it hung.

"Where'd you sleep yesterday?" he asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Don't talk when your mouth is full," Effie chided. "The sitting room. Fell asleep there while doing my work."

"Liar," he told her softly.

She smiled ruefully and began handing him his medication which he obediently ingested without a fuss.

"I'm not taking that one, it makes me drowsy," Haymitch said, pushing her hands away when she handed him the last two pills.

"It's to manage the pain and you're supposed to be resting – just sleep if you're drowsy."

"No. No, I can manage. I'm not in pain."

Effie sighed. She kept them back in the bottle which she placed on his bed side table telling him to take it should he need it. Effie gathered the empty plates and glass back on the tray and was about to leave his room when he stopped her.

"Eff, come back to bed tonight. I ain't mad at you, you know that right? It's just ... I'm frustrated that's all. And I took it out on you – it wasn't right."

Haymitch waited for her to say something. She turned around, the tray resting on her hip bone as she considered his words.

"No 'I'm sorry, Effie?'" she asked, the corner of her lips twitched playfully.

"Asking a bit too much, are you?"

She laughed and shook her head. Haymitch's lips curled into a smile, watching her. _She forgives far too easily, _he thought to himself.

"Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, could you – there's a wooden box at my shed, on the work table. Could you bring it up along with some sand paper? I could at least polish it while I'm stuck in bed."

"You'll get saw dust all over – I'll bring it up, sure." Effie told him hastily when she saw the look of disappointment and irritation in his eyes.

XxX

They fell into a routine over the weeks that followed. When there were no visitors or after they left, Effie would gather her paperwork and settle down on her side of the bed while he worked on his carved wooden box, polishing it carefully. He had a few carved objects that were stashed away waiting to be polished and he had used his time being confined to bed to get them done.

Plutarch had been previously informed that due to Haymitch's condition and need for a caregiver, Effie would be unable to make any trips to the Capitol for the time being. At the moment, she was chewing the end of her pen, her legs curled beneath her as she rested against Haymitch who was propped up against the headboard with his arms around her.

"What exactly do you do for the Capitol now?" he asked curiously, trying to make out the printed words on Effie's paper.

"Just some administrative matters – mostly monthly reports from the Capitol offices in the Districts that I needed to collate and, you know, vet through and make sure everything is in order. Presented properly for recording purposes."

"Sounds boring," Haymitch replied.

"Boring's good – means everything is as it should be."

Haymitch retracted the hand that was on her shoulder and snaked it around her waist, pulling her closer. His lips dropped to her neck as he kissed it and sucked on the tender flesh on the crook of her neck. She craned her neck around to look at him, an amused glint in her eyes.

"I'm bored," he mumbled, cupping his good hand on her cheek. He guided her face closer to his so he could kiss her properly.

Effie twisted around as Haymitch deepened the kiss; her hands wound itself in his hair. He let out an involuntary moan at the dual sensation of Effie nibbling on his lower lip and her fingers raking through his hair. Effie flinched when the splint around his left wrist made contact with her cheek bones, the material rough against the smoothness of her pale skin.

He murmured an apology which Effie waved off with a smile, the eyes conveying her amusement. "Straddle me," Haymitch told her. "It'll be easier. Don't worry, you won't hurt me."

He saw Effie hesitate as she glanced down at the cast around his leg. Haymitch tugged her hand, urging her and slowly she climbed over him. Her legs on either side of his body, her knee on the bed supporting her weight while her right hand held on to a bedpost for additional support – she was careful not to let any of her body weight rest on him.

Haymitch rested his hands on her waist as she leaned down to kiss him, her tongue slipping past his teeth to twirl with his own. She tasted so sweet – the hint of strawberry tea she had earlier still lingered.

Haymitch was breathing heavily as they continued kissing on the bed, his eyes closed as his hand roamed her body. One of his hands had slipped under her light blue blouse, skimming the smooth taut skin of her tummy, trailing a finger up her spine, gliding across her breast – a ghost of his touch. He wanted her and not for the first time, he cursed his condition.

Effie was the first to break the kiss, resting her forehead on his.

"We're going for another x-ray tomorrow, for your leg," she told him softly.

He grunted. He hated the x-rays, hated going back to the hospital.

"They're gonna take the damn thing off?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe. I don't know - it depends on how well your bone is healing."

"Get them to take it off," Haymitch requested, his hand brushing her hair.

"Can't do as you please. We'll see what the doctor has got to say tomorrow, okay?"

Effie dipped her head to give him a kiss. Haymitch responded eagerly and Effie laughed softly at how easy it was to distract him from thinking about the hospital

XxX

Haymitch's mood spiralled out of control when he found out that the cast on his legs could not be taken off just yet. His sarcastic and caustic remarks grew worse and Effie had to bite her tongue on several occasions to prevent herself from lashing back at him.

There were days when his words were enough to drive her out of their room, and she would avoid their room until it was time for his meal and medicine.

Mrs Hewson had approached Effie one day when Effie had stormed off the room and sat with her in the sitting room as the emotionally drained woman tried to control her breathing and anger.

"Be patient, Effie," Mrs Hewson advised her, patting Effie's hand in a motherly gesture.

"I'm trying. But it's just – He's impossible, sometimes."

"It's normal with patients when they get frustrated; especially him. Haymitch is used to being independent, doing things on his own. He had managed fairly well all these years and to be confined to bed, unable to do anything on his own – he is a man, Effie. We have our pride, they have their ego."

Effie nodded, acknowledging her words.

"My advice? Try not to coddle him so much - he's fine, just immobile. Be there when he needs your help, though I imagine he won't ask for it if he could avoid it. It's a delicate balance, but I'm sure you'll manage," Mrs Hewson told her, smiling gently.

Driven by boredom, Haymitch had taken the District newsletter and flipped through it, browsing it with a critical eye. The door opened and from the corner of his eyes, he saw Effie's head poking into the room to check on him.

"I'm fine, not in pain. Don't need medicine," he told her flatly before she could even ask.

"Alright. Peeta's downstairs, feeding your geese. Shout if you need anything he'll come up. I'll be gone for a few hours," she told him as she stood in front of the vanity fixing her hair and changing into clothes that looked like it might belong to Katniss - cargo pants and black shirt.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Her eyes met his in the mirror as he looked at her from his supine position on the bed, the newsletter lying flat on his chest. Effie had hardly ever left the house for more than an hour since he got back from the hospital at the Capitol.

"Finally sick of me, are you?"

Effie sighed. "No. I thought _you_ would be sick of me. I'm going to accompany Katniss to the woods. She offered – said it'd be a good break. I've never been to the woods before. And... I think we could take a break from each other before we ... get into another argument."

Haymitch puckered his lips as he thought over Effie's words. He beckoned her towards him and she sat by the side of his bed, waiting for him.

"You're... okay with it, right?" Effie asked hesitantly. "If you want me to stay, I'll tell Katniss that perhaps –"

"Nah. Go with her - like you said, I think we need some sort of space for a bit. Be careful in the woods, stay close to Katniss."

Effie nodded and kissed his forehead. "I will, don't you worry."

"Don't eat anything you don't know, run it by Katniss first," he warned her. The thought of this Capitol woman going into the woods of District 12 made him worry. Yet, at the same time, he thought it was good that she wanted to explore and do things beyond her comfort zone.

"Don't give Peeta a difficult time. He's a sweet boy, but even he can't keep up with a grouchy old man like you all the time," Effie teased, kissing him lightly on his lips.

He grunted in response and gently nudged Effie off his bed.

* * *

**A/N: Not sure if any of you read my Eight For A Wish but i made an announcement there which I'm going to repeat here, just in case. **

**The next update won't be for another two weeks or so. Cause I'm going off a short road trip across the border to Kuala Lumpur over the weekends and wouldn't have the time to write for while. So hang in there and hope you understand.**

**In the interim, would be lovely to get back home to some reviews :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm back and with it, I've got you the final chapter! Hope you enjoy this**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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Chapter 19

Haymitch leaned against the sofa; his legs stretched out before him on the foot rest and watched as Effie bustled up and down the stairs carrying his belongings.

"You're moving down with me, aren't you?" he called out to her, his hands twirling his metallic crutch absent-mindedly.

"I'm moving your things to the guest bed room, but mine is still upstairs. I don't really need mine – I can always go up the room and get it," she answered.

Haymitch could hardly see her face which was hidden behind by the stacks of pillows she was carrying in her arms. As his condition continued to improve over the weeks, and he was finally allowed to get out of bed, his mood had improved drastically. He still had his occasional downturn when his mood turned sour but the ability to move about, even if he had to rely on his crutches was better than the four walls of his bed room.

Effie was at that moment busy transferring his belongings to the guest bedroom on the first floor, saving Haymitch the hassle of having to manoeuvre himself up the flight of stairs.

"I'm going to the shed," he announced when Effie emerged from the guest bedroom. Haymitch pushed himself off the sofa and leaned on his crutches.

"Don't lose track of time. And, hold on, before you go, we're having dinner with Katniss and Peeta this coming weekend."

XxX

"Where are your crutches?" Katniss asked, craning her neck to search for it.

"Discarded it," he said, biting off a chunk of meat from the chicken drumstick in his hand.

"And you made yourself a... what's that? A walking stick?"

"A walking stick? No, I prefer that it be called a cane," he smirked at Katniss. He was rather proud of his handiwork. He had spent hours on it, working in the shed. Despite the doctor's advice and Effie's disapproval, Haymitch had insisted on using the cane. He found the crutches bothersome and he hated how much his underarm ached from its' constant use.

"I feel like an old man, though," he added, lifting his cane up. "Ah, well, won't be long before I can walk on my own."

Effie shook her head at him. "Oh no, no. Don't be so stubborn and hasty. You will use that cane until the doctors says it's okay not to use it anymore. I didn't put up a fight when you threw your crutches but I'm taking a stand with that cane."

Katniss snickered and Haymitch scowled but knew enough to hold his tongue. Instead he gave a passing remark that had Effie pursing her lips in displeasure.

"I'm guessing from this delicious meal I'm having, Effie wasn't the one who cooked."

"She didn't, but she did help out," Peeta added, patting Effie's arm sympathetically.

Haymitch and Peeta retreated to the porch after dinner. The wind created a soft cool breeze and Haymitch sighed as he sank down on the chair, his legs stretched out before him. Peeta leaned against the railing, watching Haymitch.

"Any permanent disability?" he asked, nodding towards Haymitch's leg.

Haymitch gave a nonchalant shrug. "The limp will most likely be there, I think. Nothing I can do about that."

"How are things between you and Effie?"

"Good. It's good, everything's fine. You know, she's ... Effie's been patient with me. And..." he shifted in his seat and thought back to all those months ago when he had asked Peeta for help at that very same spot. He was about to ask the boy for his help again. "Listen, I want to do something for her – something nice."

Peeta nodded and gestured for Haymitch to continue.

"Effie deserves something. I just want to give it to her, you know? She's done a lot for me, especially these past few months since the accident. I ... I want to show her that I appreciate her, you understand what I mean? But I don't – Why are you grinning like that, kid?"

"I think it's sweet, that's all."

Haymitch snorted. _Sweet? Me?_

Peeta pushed himself off the railing and stood in front of Haymitch. "So what you're saying is that you need my help?"

"Yeah."

That was how Katniss found them half an hour later; heads bent together, their brows furrowed, deep in thought. Peeta waved Katniss off with the promise that he would tell her later on and they continued with their discussion.

Peeta leaned back against the rattan chair, his eyes trained on Haymitch. "You really do love her."

Haymitch turned to look at Peeta, startled by his sudden remark. He peered through the window to see that Katniss had gone back inside and was sitting on the sofa with Effie, sipping hot tea. He watched as Effie gently blew air on the tea cupped in her hand, the way the corner of her lips curled in a sweet smile, how her eyes lighted up when Katniss said something that made her laugh.

Effie belonged here with him in District 12. She seemed at home - comfortable and she fit in. Effie, Peeta and Katniss – they were his family now. _Strange, _he thought to himself. He had never envisioned the life he had now. He had never thought it was possible. He had never imagined being with Effie Trinket but this woman had unknowingly crept up on him and wormed her way into his heart, chipping down the walls he had built up, evoking emotions he had tried to keep numb under the alcohol he used to consume.

"Yeah, I guess I do love her. Never thought I'll admit that to anyone so if you ever repeat it, Peeta, especially if you told Effie that I admitted that to you, I will deny it."

Peeta laughed good-naturedly and shook his head at Haymitch's useless threat.

"I hate her sometimes - she's still irritating. Drive me nuts but, that's who she is, I supposed. And she's not Effie Trinket if she suddenly just stops nagging."

XxX

They strolled through town with Effie's arm linked around his as he slowly led her towards the meadow.

Effie had nearly managed to ruin his plan when she had refused to get out of bed that morning. She was in one of her moods. Haymitch supposed he was one of the few people who knew that Effie had a lazy side. She had insisted that they should just lie in bed all day – that day being a Sunday and the errands could wait.

Her lips grazed his ear lobe, her voice had dropped to a whisper and Effie's hand skimmed his chest. It took all of his efforts to turn his back on her and insist that she go back to sleep.

"If we're not going to town, then go back to sleep. No need to disturb me," he grumbled.

She huffed in annoyance and lightly smacked his shoulder. "Fine, fine. We'll go today. Come on then, get up."

She tugged his hand and he turned around to face her. "Why are we going towards the meadow?"

"You'll see," he told her.

When they reached the edges of the meadow, Haymitch stopped her.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because I told you so, go on, close your eyes," he urged her.

She looked at him sceptically before finally acquiescing to his request and closed her eyes. She shifted closer to him, reaching out with her hand to hold on to his arm. Haymitch transferred his cane to his right hand and with his free hand, guided Effie by her elbow towards where Peeta and Katniss were waiting for them.

"We're here, but keep those eyes closed, sweetheart."

"Okay." Haymitch slipped his hand into hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Happy Birthday, Effie!" screamed a chorus of voice. Despite what he just told her, Effie's eyes flew open and she stared dumbfounded at the grinning faces of Katniss and Peeta. Peeta was holding a chocolate mousse cake in his hand, a single lighted candle placed nicely in the centre of the cake.

"Make a wish, Effie," Peeta said softly.

Effie's eyes began to tear and she turned to look at Haymitch who was still holding on to her hand. He raised an eyebrow at her and jerked his head towards the cake. Effie blew the candle out, laughing and shaking her head when Haymitch leaned forward to ask what she had wished for.

"You can thank Haymitch for that single candle. He refused to tell us your age so we couldn't arrange the candles accordingly," Peeta informed and Haymitch chuckled.

They settled down on the mat that had been laid out by the kids earlier. Haymitch wrapped his arm around Effie who had leaned in against him, kissing the top of her head.

"Happy birthday, Eff."

"Thank you, Haymitch. This is... What you've done was really nice and I'm – I like this, it's nice and quiet. I thought you had forgotten my birthday," she said, laughing lightly. "I can't believe you managed to keep this whole surprise a secret! Things never get under my radar, but ... Oh, and thank you for not telling them how old I am."

"About that - I don't actually remember how old you are," he confessed.

"Haymitch!"

"I'm serious. Does it even matter?"

"No, I guess not but, I'm going to tell you anyway," Effie said before tilting her head up to whisper in his ears.

Haymitch burst out laughing and quickly sobered up when Peeta and Katniss gave him questioning looks.

XxX

That night Effie found herself curled up with Haymitch on the sofa, in front of the fire place. His leg was throbbing from all the walking he had done but he wasn't stupid enough to let Effie know that. He raised his leg and let it rest elevated on the foot rest, his cane discarded uselessly on the floor. Haymitch blinked sleepily and buried his face in Effie's hair, inhaling the sweet smell.

"Are you happy, Eff?" he mumbled against her hair.

"Yes, of course, I am. It's not every day that I turn older and have someone throw a surprise picnic for me."

Effie laced her fingers with his and smiled up adoringly at him. He returned her smile but it didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Wanted to do so something nice for you - for all that you've done for me ever since... I got into the accident. You are by far, one of the most patient person I have ever met, Effie. And... I know how difficult I can get at times," he told her quietly. "But that's not what I meant when I asked if you're happy."

Effie's forehead creases.

"Then what do you mean, Mitch?"

"I mean with me – are you happy with me?"

He watched her as he waited for an answer. He didn't have to wait long for Effie answered in a heartbeat, the conviction in her voice was clear and strong and for a moment, Haymitch felt exceedingly foolish for ever asking her in the first place.

"Don't ever ask me that again. I am happy with you – I am happiest when I'm with you, haven't you realise that yet? I love you, Haymitch. If you doubt anything else, don't ever doubt that."

"Doubt the truth to be a liar but never doubt I love," he recited from memory, his face crinkling from the effort of trying to recall something his mother had read out to him years ago.

"A poem? I never took you for someone who reads poetry." Effie asked, amused.

"I don't," he shook his head, "Something my mother told me a long time ago."

Haymitch dropped a kiss to Effie's temple and watched as the fire slowly turned to embers. The soft flickering fire was making him drowsy and lulling him to sleep when Effie spoke.

"Would she have liked me?"

"Who?" he asked.

"Your mother."

He paused as he considered her question and tried to formulate an answer. "Possibly. She was... She's a strong character – my mother. She didn't really like the Capitol; she had never told us that but I could tell. But, my mother was also kind, she would welcome you into her home, serve you with her food, if she had any. My mother would try to get to know you before she passed any judgment."

He paused as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. Years had passed but it had never gotten easier talking about his family, especially his mother. He hardly ever talked about them and Effie respected his wishes enough not to ask. Tonight however, he wanted to share it with Effie. He wanted her to know the only other woman he had ever loved. He had told Effie once about Haidee, his girlfriend when Effie had asked if he had loved her. He hadn't. He thought he had but he was a teenager and Haidee had been his friend since he was a child. For as long as Haymitch could remember, Haidee had always had a crush on him. He would have married her if he hadn't been Reaped and she, subsequently murdered but he wasn't _in love_ with her.

"She would like you for being well-mannered after having to look after two rowdy boys. Fresh change, I think. But there would be something about you that she won't approve off."

"What's that?" Effie asked curiously, biting her lower lips like she was prone to do when she was on edge.

"Your abysmal cooking."

His deadpanned voice and honest answer reduced Effie to a fit of giggles. She buried her face on his chest as her shoulder shook with laughter.

"I'm trying!" she replied indignantly after a while.

"Sure, sweetheart. You've been trying for quite a while now."

Haymitch rested his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes, holding Effie close to him. _This is what it felt like to be content_, he thought to himself. He had fought for this life and if he was honest to himself, he felt that he deserved it after all that had happened to him. _I've earned this life, haven't I? _

He had fought to survive when he was sixteen, had his family brutally ripped from him, his girlfriend dead, forced to mentor children, and lost them. He had his battles with alcohol and he had won, lost Effie and won her back. He had rebel against the Capitol and this – the peace he finally felt after decades of suffering – was exactly what he had fought for.

The woman currently snoring softly in his arms had given him a life he never thought he could have and if that meant he would have to endure their constant disagreements and arguments, her strict manners and her obsessive need to constantly clean after him then he would.

Effie was a strong woman - loyal and she wasn't afraid to stand her own grounds. They were both stubborn - constantly arguing and disagreeing about the slightest of things but the constant arguments meant that he was always on his toes and it almost guaranteed that things would never get dull between them. Effie was a challenge and the Games had broken them both, made them alone and drove them together, forced them to work annually for weeks on end. As a final, act of Rebellion against the Games that no longer existed in Panem but one that would forever taint his memories, Haymitch would make damn sure that he would never let Effie Trinket go.

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**The quote "Doubt the truth to be a liar" was from Hamlet, by Shakespeare.**

**A/N: That's it. That's the end of New Ways to Fall Apart. I have got to say that it's been amazing writing this and reading all of your feedbacks. I had so much fun writing this story over the course of the past few months. & I just want to really really thank all of you who have reviewed this so far. Thank you so much, you made me happy & kept me motivated. Thanks to those who favourited this and followed this story.**

**Thank you for reading! Do leave a review :)**


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